Project Codename: Hellfire
by ButtonPusherExtraordinaire
Summary: What if the killing of Donnie Gill evokes a more vulnerable, open Skye concerning Ward? What if Fitz's actions in Vault D invites a different, blunter Ward? What if Ward was more than he appeared, although he remains unaware? Events change, leading to a different future and fate. A more realistic, logical take on Grant Ward and an espionage/sci-fi-like world. Season 2 AU!
1. Prologue

**I know I'm late getting to the party, but I had to write this out. It wouldn't leave me alone. This is my first **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** story, so tell me what you think.**

**Suffice to say, I will be changing some things. Some more than others. Oh, this is an AU of Season 2. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

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The light of the screen haunted her; no matter how she sought to ignore it, her mind refused to allow her to rest. Skye angrily and bitterly snapped the bedsheets away and stomped towards the computer at her small desk. It was the same, just as it always. Every night - and when she could secretly find time during the day away from prying eyes - she had to look at it, look at him. It was infinitely better than the haunting picture of Donnie Gill that threatened to drown her.

The pixelated image of Ward met her gaze, and she slowly pulled her laptop towards her: she walked back to her bed, thoughts of sleep vanishing from her mind. Skye curled her arms around her knees and watched the live feed to Vault D. Her sense of time drifted and inevitably, so too did her mind, catapulted back to better days before everything broke around her because Hydra was full of Nazi-loving scumbags. That included Ward and Garrett. Skye still didn't understand, and she tried and tried to figure it out. After the shock wore off and after she was able to even think about Ward without crying, she decided to get to the heart of the story. But as far as Coulson and May were concerned, the only story to tell is that Ward was a traitor and under the orders of Garrett, who they called other words, betrayed them and nearly killed Fitz and Simmons.

Skye had tried - _oh, how she had tried!_ \- to accept that version of events, but the truth mattered to her. The Rising Tide had wanted to spread the truth, dig until it was uncovered, and that was ingrained in her. What followed was a secret search into Garrett and Ward, anything that she could get her hands on, but there was hardly anything. Especially on Ward. Not even into his childhood from his rich family; it was like he had never existed to them. That told her far more about his family than she felt comfortable admitting, but she needed to know more, to understand! Her erasure of his identity before she had learned the truth came back to bite her - if there had ever been anything to find - but in comparison to Ward, there was a lot more on Garrett that she dug up.

Most of it were things she already knew, how Garrett was a brilliant Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. trained by Fury himself, and the details of his injury through which he became the first Deathlok. What had really interested her were the mandatory, annual psychological evaluations about Garrett that S.H.I.E.L.D. administered. Skye had been forever fooled by Garrett and the worse thing was that she had liked Garrett - _liked him a lot!_ The charm and humor of who she had considered a good man were undeniable and riveting, and she had been relieved to read that the Psychologists graded him as a tremendous social influencer. Reading further through years-worth of evaluations, she learned of Garrett's apparent resentment towards S.H.I.E.L.D. that no one did anything about and how his charm and extroverted persona were defense mechanisms to conceal the rage that he felt.

Always, without fail, in each evaluation after Garrett became Ward's S.O., Ward would someone enter the conversation - usually brought up by the monster or Psychologist. It was apparent and sickening how Garrett would brag about Ward and Skye often slammed her computer shut in bitter rage before she could resume her research. Through reading what she could find, she sometimes thought she could understand why Ward followed Garrett, since they had been on so many missions together, but every time she contemplated it, she always cried.

It also forced her to wonder how blind S.H.I.E.L.D. and even Coulson were to miss what was right in front of them for years.

Unable to keep thinking about Garrett, while keeping the live feed of Vault D, she pulled the video on Ward's psychological evaluation that was conducted weeks ago. Watching the scene once again, Skye sighed as the S.H.I.E.L.D. Doctor sat across from a restrained Ward.

"_We're going to start with simple word associations, Mr. Ward." _

"_One potato, two potato, then?" _Ward's raspy voice was sarcastic, and she continued to feel amazed that he knew sarcasm and could pull it off well; more of him that he had hidden from her. _"How fun."_

"_Something like that. Tell me the first word that appears in your mind. For example, I might say 'Day' and you might say- "_

"_Pointless."_

"_Very well… Knife."_

"_Wound."_

"_Gun."_

"_Shot."_

"_Agent."_

"_Tool."_

"_S.H.I.E.L.D."_

"_Incompetent."_

"_Hydra."_

"_S.H.I.E.L.D."_

"_Woman."_

"_Skye."_

"_Man."_

"_Target."_

"_Coulson."_

"_Fool."_

"_May."_

"_Bitch."_

"_Skye."_

"_Peace."_

"_Fitz."_

On the screen, Ward's sigh was audible. _"Monkey."_

"_Simmons."_

"_Fitz."_

"_Sunlight."_

"_Warmth."_

"_Fire."_

"_Deadly."_

"_Betrayal."_

"_Common."_

"_Murder."_

"_Employment."_

"_Ophelia."_

Ward reacted, a tenseness entering his frame, _"Monster."_

"_Alfred."_

"_Monster."_

"_Garrett." _On the screen, Ward paused for several moments, and the Doctor leaned forward with more insistence. _"Garrett._"

"_Savior."_

"_Christian."_

"_Satan."_

"_Thomas."_ Again, Ward didn't answer and the Doctor forcefully repeated, _"Thomas."_

"_Done." _

The deadly tone in Ward's voice, in spite of watching the word test before, still incurred shivers in Skye; she had never heard him sound that way, not even during the Berserker Staff. His reaction to his brothers told her that the stories about his family were never falsified; they were monsters, just as he had called his father and mother.

She exited the video and reread the S.H.I.E.L.D. Psychologist's recommendation again: _Subject displays a deep penchant for violence, fueled by endless vicious rage and a lethal skill set beyond that of any prior patient. The subject's pathological rejection of authority stems from unresolved childhood trauma, which has left the subject profoundly emotionally-damaged. Childhood trauma and emotional scarring have led the subject to dissociate and compartmentalize beyond healthy boundaries. The subject conceals much from my ability to gather a working picture, and there is more to the story. To understand and rehabilitate, the subject should begin immediate therapy. If therapy is successful - and it is my personal belief that, while a tremendously long process that could last years, treatment would succeed - the subject has the potential to be reformed and enter society as a contributing force for good. Still, until then, permanent incarceration is advised. _

Skye blinked and focused back on the pixelated image of Ward in Vault D, and she saw what she always did. Ward was still and only moved around to work-out; he usually sat on the bed, staring at the wall. However, as she had noticed, Ward would frequently turn his head about 45 degrees to the right and stare; sometimes, he even seemed to be talking but Skye was never sure.

Eventually, as she usually did, she became antsy; she swallowed as Donnie Gill's image began to pound against her skull, and quickly hacked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. cameras. Only hesitating a moment, she set the cameras on a loop from the past fifteen minutes and left her room. Doubt was heavy in her mind, but the image of Donnie Gill was becoming more persistent; she needed to talk to someone and right now, there was only one person who she could think of who wouldn't judge her or be disappointed in her reaction.

The Playground was empty and Skye wondered at the lax security, but she realized it was because S.H.I.E.L.D. was so undermanned. Finally, when she arrived at Vault D, she stood frozen for several moments. Gathering her courage, she typed in the code and entered, softly going down the stone steps. The energy barrier greeted her and she stood there, rethinking what she was doing, but she impulsive switched the barrier to transparent before she could regret it.

Ward stared back at her, eyebrows raised; he didn't say anything.

"I have the cameras on a loop," she tried to meet his eyes. "Nobody knows I'm down here."

"This is new," he observed dryly, face a mask of boredom.

Skye frowned, the stark change stunning her. What happened? Since when did Ward conceal his emotions and thoughts from her? When she had first come down to interrogate him to get information about Hydra, he had been an open-book and the worst part was that she hadn't seen a monster. Only a desperate man who claimed to love her. The problem was that she hadn't wanted to see that; she wanted to believe him to be nothing more than a family-betraying monster. Now, as she stared at him, Skye couldn't even get a read on Ward. This what she had wanted, but now that it was out of her grasp, she missed the openness and it brought new sorrow, and to distract herself, she observed this new version of him.

The beard on Ward's face still seemed alien and it made him look more dangerous. Adding that to his immense size and power drawn into his body, it forced her to think. Since his imprisonment, Ward had beefed-up a lot and he looked so much stronger. It was strange because she knew that he was fed terribly and she had looked at the live feed many times. Sometimes, he wouldn't even eat the food served. How did he gain so much muscle, and why does he look more in-shape than when he wasn't imprisoned?

"Coulson trying a new tactic, Skye? First, Fitz and now you. It's not going to work. Not unless I allow it to. I'm done playing. Fitz opened my eyes."

"I don't know why I came down here," she muttered. "Would you prefer Fitz? You saw what you did to him firsthand. He's different because of you."

"It's not my decision who comes down to talk to me." Ward's eyes shone with intrigue, "You don't know, do you?"

"Know _what,_ Ward?"

"What Fitz did when he came down here."

"He got you to talk about brainwashing. About Donnie Gill."

"Nobody gets me to talk about anything unless I want to talk. Do you know what he did? How he 'got me to talk,' Skye?"

Skye suddenly felt unsure although she tried to keep it from showing on her face; she didn't know what he was talking about. "What are you talking about?"

Ward nodded knowingly, "Coulson didn't tell you. Of course, he wouldn't. He isn't telling you a lot, is he?"

"Tell me what?" She demanded, "What did Fitz do?"

"Fitz and I talked." Something crossed over Ward's features but she didn't know what it was. "I was happy to see him. It made me realize some things."

"You don't deserve _happiness,_" she snapped. "You deserve to rot down here for- "

"I gave him, both of them, a fighting chance. They survived. You know it. You _all_ know it."

Skye took a step back, "This was a mistake. I don't know why I came down here. I thought- "

"You want to understand," Ward shrugged carelessly. "Perhaps you miss me."

"You don't know that," her face went red with anger.

"You really don't know how they train us, do you? Of course, Coulson wouldn't tell you. He's doing a lot of that, isn't he? All he cares about is keeping the benevolent image. I'm a Specialist, Skye. I kill, infiltrate, seduce, gather information, and so much more. At the Academy, all Specialists learn many skills and among those are skills usually reserved for shrinks. John taught me better than some of those instructors."

At the mention of Garrett, and how easily Ward could talk about that monster, Skye's ire erupted. It didn't help that she felt the weight of Donnie Gill bearing down on her. "You lied to us! You murdered Koenig! And Hand!"

"That's what you're mad about? _Hand?_ Koenig was an idiot, but Hand was a bitch; she deserved it."

"You can't murder people, Ward!" Skye swallowed and desperately tried to ignore the image of Donnie Gill in her head, the phantom feeling of holding the gun and pulling the trigger, the thunderous force erupting through her mind at the echoing gunshot. "That's what monsters do!"

Ward raised his brows and a bark of laughter escaped his lips; the sound was so foreign that Skye froze. "I'm done trying to win you over. Fitz made me realize things. Maybe you'll understand bluntness. No more, what is it, kids gloves."

"What are you- "

"Only monsters kill, Skye? _Really?_ What is it you think that May does? Tripp? Even Coulson? What does S.H.I.E.L.D. do? They kill! They _murder_. What do you think you'll be doing?" Skye hoped that Ward didn't see her flinch, but she knew he saw everything. "All Agents kill and that's how they get paid. Murder means employment in this world. Why else are mercenaries so sought after? You've entered it and you chose to stay. You could've walked away, started a new life. You could've helped me and John, and then we would have- "

"I wouldn't help monsters, Ward," she interrupted in disgust. "That's what people like you- "

"Look who you've been helping these past months, Skye. Everyone's the same. To be part of this life you chose to stay in, you need to learn _a lot_. You still have a long way to go. All the progress that you _think _you've made is insignificant. Coulson and May won't be honest with you, but I will."

"You're _Hydra_," she shot back angrily. "You nearly killed Fitz and Simmons! You gave Fitz brain damage!"

"They're alive, aren't they?" Ward finally reacted and it was disconcerting; his eyes were dark and he glanced to his right for a moment. "I know exactly what I did. Fitz reminded me more than you ever could. But they're _alive._ Not dead."

"You dropped them out of the Bus!"

"Yet they're alive. For some reason, that seems to never click in any of your dense skulls. Has it ever crossed your mind why you're still alive? Why _any_ of you are? Coulson? May? FitzSimmons? Tripp? If I'm such a monster, shouldn't I have crossed each of you off a list? Believe me, it would have been easy. But you're all miraculously alive. Those are some rigged odds, Skye. The numbers don't add up when one of the parameters is that I'm a monster."

Skye's lips parted and she shuddered before she shook her head. "You're manipulating me, changing the narrative to- "

"I could have killed any of you anytime I wanted." Ward stared at her intently and Skye stiffened, for she suddenly understood that he was telling the truth. "You've wanted to know the truth your entire life, well here's the truth about this: I had so many opportunities that I can't even remember them all, and my memory is long and great. FitzSimmons are alive because of me." Ward whirled around and he began to pace back and forth; he looked like the ultimate predator, muscles tight and coiled. "John, he wanted them dead. Ask yourself something, Skye: If John wanted them gone, why are they still alive? Why are any of you alive? I held a gun to May's back and she was none the wiser but I decided not to pull the trigger." Ward's hand came up to his throat, a flash of dark rage crossing his face. "My weakness came back to haunt me. Never again."

Skye could barely breathe, "You drowned- "

"They locked themselves in there. Did they tell you that?"

"They were trying to escape from you!"

"Maybe. I could have tried to override the lock, but I didn't. I could have put a bullet between their eyes the moment I saw them instead of chasing them, but I didn't. Why didn't I do that, Skye? Either of those options? Ask yourself. Go ahead."

"You- you _cared,_" she whispered, for it was the only thing that made sense; the realization was blinding.

Ward's eyes shut briefly before they opened. "Yes. I cared."

Skye leaned forward in desperation; she needed to know! "Then _why_ did you do it? Why did you do all of it?"

She watched as Ward looked to his right, staring at the wall for what felt like an eternity before he answered. "John needed me."

Disgust filled her at the same answer he continued to tell her. "Was it worth it?"

"No," his raspy words surprised her - and to her inward dismay, gave her hope. "It wasn't. For years, I waited for Hydra to leave the shadows but when the moment arrived, there was no happiness. I've never cared for Hydra even though they cared about me. Everything I did was to help John and when I finally did what I swore to do all of those years ago, it wasn't how I thought it would be. John, he went insane. The GH-325, it fucked his mind. He wasn't there anymore, not the John I knew." The pure sorrow and regret in Ward's voice stole Skye's breath and she realized once again that Ward wasn't unfeeling; he felt deeply, no matter how wrongly. "I don't understand. It worked on Coulson; it brought him back from _death_," his gorgeous eyes locked onto her and she swallowed. "It saved you, but… why not _John? _I did what I needed to, but it brought nothing but chaos. No peace. I saved John only to ensure the loss of his mind. Now you hate me. Everyone hates me. Fitz tried to kill me. May wants to- "

"_What?"_ Skye gasped before she angrily snarled. "You're lying! Fitz- "

"You can find the video," Ward sounded tired. "When he came down earlier, he drained the oxygen out of the cell. That's what he did. I had no air to breathe. That's how he 'got me to talk' about brainwashing."

Skye blinked in disbelief, not believing him for a second. "Well, then you know how Fitz felt after you- "

"Yes. I do know. I deserved it, but he couldn't go through with it. Part of me wanted him to."

"You're _lying,_" she shook her head. "You're just trying to manipulate me."

Ward only looked at her, "You think you know everything, just as everyone else does, but you're the only one who is open enough to _learn_. I've been trying to- "

"I read your S.H.I.E.L.D. evaluation. You lie as easily as you breathe. You're like- like _Loki._ Coulson said- "

"Coulson is a fool, Skye. He doesn't know anything. He thinks he has it all worked out in that head of his, but his understanding is just like his self-declared sympathy: Nonexistent."

"Coulson is a better man than you or Garrett could- "

"Why are you here?" Ward interrupted with a tilt of his head. "You came here for a reason. It wasn't to understand. I've already tried to explain it to you, but you're unreceptive. What is it? What _happened?"_

Skye's chest tightened as Donnie Gill haunted her; she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed. "Nothing. This was… a mistake."

"You came for a reason, Skye. Whatever's wrong, you recognize th- "

"I don't need you, Ward," she hissed. "I shouldn't have come down here. I can handle it. Without you."

"Don't be like them, Skye," her eyes widened at his raspy words. "It's killing you; that's what the training does. It's conformity and until you resemble what they want you to be, you will always be a failure."

"Speaking from experience, Ward?" Skye snarked angrily; she wrapped her arms around her chest because his words sounded too much like the truth.

"I know you, Skye."

"You know _nothing._"

"They're trying to turn you into May." Ward tilted his head, "That's who they have you with now. I can tell. She's your new S.O."

"May's not my S.O." Skye swallowed, bitter that this asshole made her feel such emotions, made her want to understand. "I haven't picked a new S.O., but I know what I must do. I'm an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And where will that get you? A blood-soaked ditch? What happens when you meet someone like me out there?" Ward's eyes were mesmerizing and she was unable to look away. "You don't want that. You haven't seen the worst of man. You think you have, but you haven't. I would _crush_ you if you meant nothing to me. You have never encountered a true monster. Only assholes."

"Describing yourself, Ward?" Skye rushed out, trying to keep those too-truthful words from affecting her. "You're pretty good at it."

"I'm the best. And you've come to me. _Why?"_

"I don't know!" Turning away from him, Skye questioned everything; Ward's words echoed in her mind. "I can't talk about it to anyone. May… is May. She'd preach control. Coulson, he'd be disappointed, and he's been… acting strangely; he's not the same. Tripp would report everything to Coulson. There's _no one_ who- who I can talk to. Fitz is… he's not there, and Jemma's gone. Because of you!"

"Tell me what happened, Skye," Ward's words were soft, gentle. "You know why you came down here. You know why you came to see _me._ I can help you. I'm the only one."

Skye swallowed and her hands shook; her heart raced rapidly and the tears were thick. "I- I _killed_ someone."

When she turned back around, Ward looked sad, but not surprised. "I was wondering when you would."

"_What?"_ She demanded, enraged. "You- you _knew?"_

"That's what they do. That's how it works. As an Agent, you kill people, regardless if you're a Specialist or not. It's, what do you call it, a rite of passage. You think Coulson hasn't killed people? He has. Quite a few, actually."

Skye breathed heavily, tears leaking out of her eyes. "I just… I pulled the trigger. And then Donnie Gill fell; he di- didn't _get up_."

Ward's eyes softened and Skye welcomed it even though she shouldn't. "They never tell you how easy it is to pull the trigger, to _kill._ I'm sorry you were forced to make that decision."

"But I shouldn't have made it!" Tears blurred her vision and she hastily wiped them away but they were replaced just as quickly. "I- I chose _wrong_. And I can't take that back. It's _permanent._ Donnie Gill's dead because of me."

"I'm sorry, Skye."

"What- what do I _do?_ How do I…?"

"You accept it. You can't change it. As you said, it's permanent. Men have been killing each other since humanity's birth. Murder wouldn't have a name if it wasn't common. That's what people do. They die, and whether that death happens at a different time than what was originally supposed to happen, it doesn't matter because death is inevitable."

"It didn't stop _Garrett!"_

Ward ignored her, "A lot of the time, people believe they can kill someone, but until they're confronted by that opportunity, they honestly have no idea. I didn't know until I was in that situation."

Skye stared at him, not even attempting to hide her emotions because she'd fail. She also ignored his perverted outlook on life; although, it made some sense. "How- how old were you? When you first killed someone?"

Ward stared at her silently before sighing. "Fifteen. I was fifteen-years-old."

"_Fifteen?"_ Skye blinked, her horror leaving her just as quickly as it appeared. "You're lying. It would've been in your file- "

"It was a test," Ward interrupted, eyes looking through her; it was disconcerting and a little bit fascinating. "John liked tests. I didn't know who he was, or what he did. I didn't care. I didn't want to know. Because then it would have humanized him. My hands, they didn't shake, and I blew his brains out. John was proud of me, and his pride smothered my remorse."

"My hands shook before I fired, but I got him," she whispered, arms wrapped around her stomach before what he said clicked. "_What?_ You- you knew Garrett when you were… _fifteen?"_

"He saved me. From my family and myself."

"No," she shook her head, a seed of hysteria blossoming in her mind because what if he was telling the truth? It would be beyond anything that she had ever concocted in her mind. "That's- that's not true. You're _lying._ Again. It's what you're best at. Garrett became your S.O. at the Academy. I read your file before I erased everything."

"You think that S.H.I.E.L.D. knew everything? They didn't know about Hydra. They didn't know about _a lot._ They didn't know how many moles Hydra planted in their upper ranks. They still don't know," Ward shook his head in disappointment. "There are still traitors in S.H.I.E.L.D., but Coulson's too naive to see it."

Skye swallowed and she ignored the part about traitors; she yearned to understand, to know about what happened between Ward and Garrett. "But Garrett was your S.O.."

"He was always going to be my S.O., Skye. Everyone wanted to be my S.O. after I broke the Academy. I was a prodigy, they said. The best since Romanoff. Frankly, I'm even better. John set it all up and he became my S.O. just as we had designed. All of the recruits already had some kind of deal in the works, had it worked out who their S.O. would be. Corruption was _mired_ in S.H.I.E.L.D., and it's still there. It was never just Hydra. Why else would you be allowed in the field?"

"I passed the tests!"

"You passed nothing, Skye. You're the Director's favorite and his willingness to disregard the standard tests will get you killed. If you did pass the tests, then they were drastically dumbed down."

Feeling insulted, she grit her teeth, "I'm not a prodigy like you, Ward, but I'm a hard-worker. You betrayed everything- "

"See, you do- don't _get it._ I was loyal to John. _Only_ John. I never gave a damn about S.H.I.E.L.D. or even Hydra. To betray something, that means one's loyalties have to change. Mine never did; they were always to John."

"You betrayed _me!"_ The tears swam in her eyes and she cursed herself for showing him weakness. "You betrayed the team! Fitz and Simmons!"

"And when you betrayed the team, all you got was a slap on the wrist."

Skye leaned forward, disbelief coursing through her. Had he really just compared their situations? "You're insufferable! And delusional! _Insane!_ Why are you this way, Ward? The Ward I knew wasn't- "

"I did play a role, the perfect, model S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, but that wasn't who you were attracted to." Ward interrupted harshly and Skye froze; the anger in his tone was authentic, tangible. "John put me on the team to learn about Coulson, how he was resurrected because Fury plays fucking favorites. That's how it all started: _Fury_. He started it when he abandoned John to die, and refused to let Coulson enjoy the afterlife."

"That doesn't- "

"I gained everyone's trust, but you were _different._ You weren't like everyone else; you were _human._ FitzSimmons talked about shit that was almost always useless to me, but you were different. You actually wanted to… know me, understand me - and I hope that hasn't changed. Nobody besides John ever wanted that. When I showed you glimpses beneath the role I played, you _loved _it. You didn't like the oblivious, by-the-book agent. You liked _me._"

"You could have been so much more!" Skye snapped, feeling the grief prickle her heart; she hated that he was right. "You could have been _anything; _you- you're like the Renaissance Man. Why did you choose this life? Why did you betray us? Betray me?"

"John needed- "

"_Enough_ about Garrett!" She interrupted loudly, angrily; she knew he was going to mention that bastard. "Out of all the men I've ever met, I hate him the most! And you're right behind him!"

"But everything's about John, Skye. That's what it boils down to," Ward inhaled slowly. "I made the decision based on what I thought to be best. Just as you did with Donnie Gill. We have to live with the decisions we make. It's all we can do."

Skye's mouth was dry and she swallowed thickly; she tried to regain control of the conversation. "I hate this. I hate you, and I… I hate myself. Will I… will I have to ki- _kill_ again?"

"Yes. You chose this life, Skye. This is what it entails. That's why they're trying to turn you into someone just like May." Ward inhaled slowly, "It gets easier, you know? To kill. It's like sex; you get better with pract- "

"I don't want it to be easier! Maybe you and everyone else are okay with killing people, bu- but _I'm not!"_

Ward suddenly smiled at her words and she was taken aback at the genuineness shining in his gorgeous eyes. "Good. There's the Skye I know. You're a good person. The _best._ I'm not a good person, but you are. Don't be what they're making you, what May and Coulson are trying to turn you into."

"No. May's been… she's been helping me," she said and hated how weak it sounded.

The snort that escaped Ward was unthinkable and she stared in absolute shock at the amusement on his features; it was clear to see even with the beard. "She's turning you into her. Do you know why May is the way she is? Do you know why she's ice-cold May? Why she's the _Calvary?"_

Skye blinked and took a step back; something in Ward's expression scared her. "I already know. She rescued- "

"That's what they'll tell you. I know what really happened, not the bullshit I told you on the Bus."

"Unsurprising," she muttered. "You lied."

"I've always known. John told me."

Skye grit her teeth, "And why the hell would I ever believe something that _Garrett_ told you?"

"Because it's the truth. May murdered a young girl."

The word floated in the air and Skye felt nothing but disgust. "You're _sick_, Ward. This is- "

"I have nothing to lose by telling you this, Skye," his words silenced her. "I'm telling you this to benefit you, to let you see the truth about the world you've entered. Do you want to kill children? You can look into it, hack whatever you want to get the truth. If I'm wrong, you can tell everyone how much of a waste of flesh I am, and how you guys keep the monster chained in the basement. You'll solidify the hatred they all feel towards me, especially May. If I'm right, then you'll understand. After all, May is _cold_. It takes a cold bitch to murder a child."

Skye suddenly remembered his past, and tried to get away from the topic of May; she would research it, find out what she could, just as she would look at the tapes to see if Fitz had drained the oxygen out of Ward's cell when he came down to Vault D.

"That's how Thomas died, isn't it? Your- your brother?"

Ward froze and his face was unreadable; he stared at her and the searing heat of his eyes was in no way diminished by the energy barrier. "Thomas… he died because I was weak. Christian tore me down; his words were in my head and they kept getting louder and louder. My parents made it worse. My skull was going to burst and it was… so painful. I _tried_ to save Thomas. I tried so _hard_ to… to get him the rope, but I was _weak._ I swore never to be weak again. John helped me and built me into a man. I'm not that scared, pathetic kid anymore."

"And you- you owed him a _debt?"_ She demanded incredulously, "Because he taught you some lessons?"

"It's _more _than that. I owed him everything, my _life_. He pulled me out of hell- "

"And into a new one!" Skye exploded angrily, "Why can't you see that, Ward? You were nothing to him. Just- just a weapon."

"He was proud of me," Ward stared at her. "I know what you think. But you're wrong. You don't know _anything_ about John or what he felt. I knew him for _half _my life. I'm well aware when I'm being manipulated, which is what you and everyone else has been doing since I've been down here, but John _never_ manipulated me. I knew him better than anyone. He was proud of me. He _cared_ about me."

Skye swallowed and bit her tongue; she would get more information if she played along, but it was so hard! "You loved him."

Ward glanced to his right again and he seemed to stare at something, but before she looked to where he was staring, he responded. "He was my father when no one else was. He believed in me when no one did. He made me a man and my life became infinitely better because he was in it. Yeah… I loved him. You should draw parallels."

"My relationship with Coulson is _nothing_ like yours was with Garrett, Ward."

"_Really?_ You want to be an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but your capability to process logic is failing you. You don't know what happened to your family - and I will still help you with that - and you grew up unloved and unwanted. My family were monsters- "

"I see you take after them."

She immediately regretted her words at the look on his face. Ward had become motionless, but his gorgeous eyes burst with teeming rage. There was a horrifying tightness in his body, a sense of barely controlled power and aggression and violence that conveyed a pure threat more than any spoken words. Skye had wanted to hurt him - just as he had hurt her - but what she said felt like it had surpassed what he had done to her; it felt unholy.

"I'm- I'm _sorry,_" she whispered, swallowing. "I know how you feel about your family. I shouldn't have- "

"But you meant it," his words drained the breath from her lungs; he looked hollow. "You- you don't know what they did. You only have a vague idea, a guess. You never saw the evidence of their… fucking lessons. The scars and burns faded. You know what I did to you, and your emotions amplify your response and takeaways from the events. Your perception… is true in your eyes. You think I'm like my family, like… _Christian_."

Skye instinctively shook her head, "No! I… I know what happened- "

"No, you don't," Ward's eyes locked onto hers. "S.H.I.E.L.D. never knew the severity of… of what happened. How would you know if they didn't? I never told you. Only John knew everything."

"And Gar- Garrett _helped _you?" She wondered softly; the relationship between the two had incurred so much horror and trauma but it was terribly fascinating.

"He was the only one who ever did. John set me straight and I got away from my family. John was all I had."

"Maybe my relationship with Coulson is… is similar to what you and- and Garrett shared," she whispered, swallowing thickly. "You're right. There are… parallels. Coulson brought me into a new family."

"I'm sorry I ripped your family apart," he stared at her sadly and honestly, she didn't care if he was lying or not; it felt so good to hear before those words actually set in.

"You didn't think of us as family?" Skye whispered, trying to conceal how much that hurt. Even though it should have reassured her, the fact that Ward was an unfeeling monster, it made her feel worse.

Ward's eyes closed, "When I think of family, I remember flames, knives, screams, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh, taunting, starving, bones breaking, torture, and the well." When his eyes opened, he looked so tired he seemed lifeless. "You should take it as a compliment that I didn't think of you and FitzSimmons as family."

Skye couldn't even describe the horror she felt; it was worse than she had imagined! At St. Agnes, she had heard stories of abused kids, but Ward's experience made those seem very tame. She knew he was telling the truth; she could feel it. Things were beginning to make sense - in a very messy way.

"And… Garrett pulled you away from that?"

"After I tried to kill Christian."

The floor was swept from under her and she felt frozen in place until reality crashed down with the force of Thor's hammer. "_What?_ You… you tried to…?"

Ward actually looked a little proud. "I tried to burn down the house. I knew he was inside. John said he was impressed by what I did."

Skye's eyes shut tightly as she desperately tried to fathom the scenario. "I- I don't understand."

"How could you? You didn't have Christian as a brother. You should be on your knees in thanks." Ward smiled with no amusement, "I'm convinced he's Satan. Which makes my decision to use fire to kill him ironic."

"So… you- you didn't kill him."

"He got out, and I was caught. Sent to juvie where I was going to be tried as an adult to get the maximum penalty. My life was over, but John rescued me. He pulled me out. He believed in me. No one's screwed with me ever since I met John."

"And you were fifteen," she whispered and ignored how Ward failed to see that he had been screwed by Garrett. "You knew Garrett for- "

"Half my life. He was always there for me. I would have died for him. Without thought. I would have taken his place, the position that S.H.I.E.L.D. put him in if I could have. I did everything to help him, and even when I succeeded and got the GH-325, I failed. It all went to hell." Ward's eyes lost their focus. "And now he's dead," he mumbled. "I _killed _him. I shouldn't have… left him alone."

"Isn't it better that he's dead?" Skye dared, trying to keep her own feelings towards Garrett from echoing in her voice; she was more than relieved that the monster was dead, but seeing Ward look so broken tugged at her. "He went insane, you said. He wasn't there anymore."

"I would have fixed it," Ward's eyes refocused and they honed in on hers. "If he didn't die, I would have fixed him, healed him. I'd do _something._ But… he didn't make it."

Something gnawed at her, the way Ward was speaking, and it took her several moments to understand it.

"You- you don't know how he died," she whispered in realization. "You don't _know._"

Ward noticeably stiffened, "How did he die? Who killed John? Was it _Fury?"_

Skye backed away, "I- I shouldn't- "

"Tell me, Skye!" Ward's raspy voice rose and the way he stared at her, eyes burning with desperation, seized her. "I need to know. What _happened?_ You know, don't you?"

"It's not my place- "

"Skye, if you tell me how John died, who killed him, you never have to speak to me again." Ward's eyes were wide, almost animalistic in the need to know what happened, and Skye could barely breathe. "_Please._ I've answered your questions honestly. I told you when I met John. I told you about _Christian._ I've given you info about Hydra. Tell me what happened to John; you never have to tell me anything else."

Skye couldn't look away from Ward and she swallowed; she knew she should leave but something wouldn't let her. "They thought he was dead after Mike crushed him, but he wasn't. He wouldn't stay down," she looked away from Ward, away from the hopeless rage on his face. "He created a new body out of Deathlok parts and just as he was finished… Coulson found him."

"Coulson?" Ward croaked and she jerked her head back, finding his eyes wide, unseeing; he didn't look responsive to reality. "It was… _him?_ He killed John?"

Not saying anything, she felt the scars on her stomach flare in pain; she crossed her arms across them, trying to hold her tongue, but she failed. "Coulson told us about it. Garrett was vaporized by the thing we found in Peru. The 0-8-4." The way Ward tensed was a warning but she didn't heed it; the memory of nearly dying under Garrett's orders was too loud. "There was nothing left of him except a puddle of blo- "

"_Stop!" _Ward hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. "When I get out of here, I'm- "

"Going to do nothing," she answered warily. "You can't escape. It's hopeless. When will it end, Ward?"

"It never ends," he snarled, pacing back and forth, rage drawn through his body; his eyes were nearly black. "That's what you have yet to understand. This life, it takes and takes until you have nothing left to give. You're going to repeat the cycle endlessly until death. That's what it means to be an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson, that… damn selfish _bastard,_ won't tell you. I don't want you to die. Get out of this life while you still can, Skye, because it's not for you. When I get out, I'm going to bring everything crashing down on Coulson's head."

"You're not going anywhere," Skye refused to acknowledge the sadness that truth brought. "You're stuck down here. Don't _you_ get it? There's no- no happy ending. No _redemption._"

"Darth Vader got redemption. Why can't I?"

Skye stared at him uncomprehendingly for several seconds; it was unthinkable, his reference. "Di- did you just make a _pop-culture_ reference?"

"I'm not as unknowing as you think, Skye."

"And you just did that to manipulate me!" She felt her fingers curl into fists, "That's what this entire conversation has been, hasn't it? An elaborate, beyond-my-comprehension _lie!"_

"You want a real-world reference?" Ward was vibrating with raw aggression; she noticed the scars on his wrists vividly and she swallowed, looking up at his eyes. "How about Romanoff? Do you know what she did before she was S.H.I.E.L.D.? She was a KGB operative, a seductress stealing America's secrets and giving them to the Soviets. She killed _a lot_ of people, and the rumors about her and who she was are sci-fi. Yet Barton was pulled in by her cleavage and as they say, made a different call. If Romanoff can get redemption, I should. Coulson was key in Romanoff's acceptance, but now, his emotions about me are clouding his judgment."

"No, you're _lying._ That's all you do!"

"Not once did I lie. I promised you that I woul- "

"I'm sorry if I don't believe that. If I never will," Skye hissed sarcastically. "All the lies you told on the Bus are affecting my memory. Then add the betrayal into the mix and- "

"I thought you would understand," he whispered, eyes dark and sad. "Out of anyone, I thought that you would understand what I did, why I did it. You should have, but you didn't. You were horrified. You still are."

All of the progress she felt she had made in understanding Ward abruptly vanished. "How _delusional_ are you, Ward? Why would I ever understand you following a monster?"

Ward actually glared at her and she was too stunned to react before he spoke. "John wasn't a monster. You never knew him. Don't you get it, Skye? You would have done the same!"

"I would _never_ follow a monster - and yes, Garrett was the biggest of them all!"

"You haven't seen enough of the world to distinguish a good man from a monster." Ward leaned closer and the energy barrier sparked erratically but he didn't even react, only peering at her intently; she couldn't look away. "I followed my _father_ just as you're following the one you found in Coulson. If Coulson asked you to do something, you would do it. Just as I did for John. You _should _have understood why I did what I did, but… I overestimated your capability to- "

"You overestimated a lot!" Skye snapped, "You would have been better off shooting me."

"I could never do that," he said it with such finality that she froze. "You mean too much."

"Why- why do you even care about me? You love me, but why? Why would I ever believe you?" She didn't even care that her misery and anguish were tangible; she wanted to know the truth. "_Why_, Ward? Why _me?"_

Ward stared at her and she finally saw the desperate man who said he loved her. "You've given me peace when I thought there to be none. You repel my rage, even with that damned Asgardian shit in my veins. You stop the pain, and keep my demons from consuming me. You give me faith that good exists in this world, and hope that the world isn't doomed by man's nature."

Skye's heart rate only increased even further at his words and she swallowed, breathing heavily; it was too much and she felt no control! "I have to get out of here," she stumbled back, trying to get away. "This was a _mistake._"

"Well, I think we've made good progress," Ward said softly but she heard him, and she hated the hopefulness in his tone; she hated the fact that he was right even more. "This is the first time we really talked about anything. Things that actually have substance. You finally listened and asked the right questions."

Skye hissed between her teeth, "The only right question is, why do I even bother with you?" Before anything else could be said, she turned the energy barrier to opaque and stomped out of Vault D, hands shaking, mind ringing with so many emotions and questions.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant stared at the impenetrable energy barrier for several moments before he closed his eyes and almost sagged. It had been a long time since a conversation had emotionally worn on him; first the damned Psychological word test weeks ago and this. Normally, he was infallible, but Skye, as she always did, had the tendency to see past his masks. Skye, Thomas, and John. They were the only ones who ever cared about him, loved him. Only one remained because of his mistakes and Grant was damn sure that he would do whatever it took to keep her alive, to right the wrongs he had dealt her.

"_I can see why you like her, Romeo._" Grant slowly turned to his right, unsurprised to see John leaning against the wall, military boots tapping against the stone. _"She's feisty and doesn't take shit. I bet she was a good fuck, huh?"_

Grant clenched his jaw, sitting on his bed, keeping his eyes on John. "I wouldn't know."

John blinked owlishly and looked so disappointed; he hated seeing that expression. _"You didn't even fuck her? What's wrong with you, son? Whenever I saw her on Phil's plane, she kept shooting those 'bedroom eyes' at you."_

"It didn't… I don't know."

"_I know. I've always known. You're soft, kid. Always have been. You couldn't even shoot that damned- "_

"Leave Buddy out of this," he hissed, the memories of that horrible day surging past his compartmentalization. "He has nothing- "

"_He's got everything to do with this, son! He represents your weakness - and so does this girl! You were too weak to pull the trigger! I was forced to show you what happens when you care for something and disobey me. Every time when you get sentimental! You didn't fuck her because you're soft; you didn't want to hurt her."_

"Skye's different," he responded half-heartedly. "She'll understand; she'll help us."

"_It's been months. She hasn't helped you yet; she wants you dead. Didn't you hear her?"_ John's voice softened and Grant was drawn in. "_Come on, son. She's a weakness. Let her go. Kill her when you get the chance. Look what she's done for you: Only encouragement to kill yourself. She hates your guts. Sure, she's a pretty thing, but you can always replace her." _John chuckled heartily and the familiar sound was so welcoming. _"When you escape, you'll get yourself a new girl. A better one. This Skye weakened you, son. You lost yourself, and I saw it happening when you couldn't. It's why I had Quinn shoot her. It killed two birds with one stone. It got Phil to look deeper into the GH-325, and it reminded you of what's important, who's important."_

"You shouldn't have done that," he whispered, fists clenched tightly. "Skye never had anything to do with- "

"_She was going to ruin you! With the game on the line, you were going to choke because of her! I couldn't let that happen. I needed you, son. You were the only one who I could trust. You always have been. You're my Trojan Horse, my soldier. But this girl smoothed out your edges, fucked you up. I was going to lose you, and I couldn't let that happen. Not to my golden boy." _

"Skye almost died- "

"_Who cares? You're hooked on this girl; she's blinded you. How many girls have you fucked, son? I lost count after fifty. And you didn't even fuck this one. What's so special about her? Why are you so hooked?" _Grant didn't answer, looking away from John, but the words continued. _"And this nun is who gets to you. Unbelievable."_

"I'm sorry, John," he whispered. "I was weak."

"_Not you, son. Your heart. Your heart was weak, and the heart's deceptive, especially about a pretty girl. The heart wants what it wants, but you gotta overpower that. All you gotta do now is cut this girl out. Kill her. You'll be better off. She's Phil's now, anyway. She'll never be yours." _Grant looked back at John, the words loudly echoing in his mind. _"Remember what I've always told you? A man can have anything if he's willing to sacrifice. Get rid of the girl. Cut her out, son."_

Grant shook his head, "I can't do that, John."

"_That's not a weakness, is it?"_

The words surged forward and tore at his soul and he felt the overwhelming urge to submit, but Grant controlled the tremors ripping through his body. "You shouldn't even be here. You're a ghost. A figment of my imagination."

"_She's a weakness." _John snapped, and the familiar glint in his eyes robbed Grant of his breath. _"I'm thankful that Phil vaporized me or whatever this girl of yours said. I'd hate to see you this way. It's pathetic. I didn't raise you to sulk, to serve these weaknesses of yours like a Choir Boy! You're pathetic!" _

"I still did what I had to. I chose my path."

"_And where did that get us? Apparently, I'm a dried puddle of blood in that damn lab, and you're locked up tighter than a virgin's asshole!"_

Grant grit his teeth, "I'll get out. You know I will."

"_What's stopping you, Romeo? If you put your mind to it, you'd be out by now. You know the base, the layout. You memorized it when they brought you here. Yet something - or actually, better yet, someone - has stopped you."_

"Skye," he whispered.

"_Winner!"_ John hooted exaggeratedly; it underlined the anger in his tone. _"A man will only change for a girl; it's how it's always been. You almost changed, son; she nearly corrupted you, but you held strong. I would feel proud of you if you didn't fail with ice-cold May and the science geeks. You could have easily killed all three of them. You should have! Your failure is what got you here!"_

"I know. My… my head wasn't in the game."

"_Excuses! I didn't raise a pussy, son. I raised a man. Your weakness with the science geeks cost you! Your ass wasn't in gear and your engine sputtered when facing May. Pathetic! You're lucky you aren't kicking daisies with me."_

Grant flinched, "Don't say that. Please_._"

"_I'm gone, son,"_ John's tone changed and it was gentle; he hated it. _"We did everything right, but you can't beat the house. We tried."_

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be," he whispered. "The GH-325 was supposed to fix you, not break your mind. We were supposed to leave Hydra and start a private security gig. Maybe mercenary work."

"_I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I was gonna retire."_

"I would have changed your mind. I thought that… that Skye would come around and she'd be with us."

"_Your head was always in the clouds. I doubt you'll stop anytime soon. Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered with you. I clearly wasted my time. You're still that weak kid- "_

Grant's eyes flashed and he jumped to his feet. "I'm not that kid! Not anymore! I hate having the memories of him; he was pathetic. If I didn't value my own life, I'd somehow kill him."

John smiled proudly and Grant felt such relief at the familiar expression. _"Now I remember what I saw in you. When I found you, you were that weak kid, but now, you're a man. The most dangerous man I've ever met. You must avenge me, son. I created you, so become Frankenstein's monster. To make it easier, have the girl if you want, I don't care, but kill Phil. Hell, kill ice-cold May while you're at, and the science geeks. Make up for your weakness. The kid tried to suffocate you. By the way, excellent performance. You would have fooled me if I didn't know you could hold your breath for almost five minutes. They all hate your guts. One tried to kill you. When will it happen again? What if the next one's not as soft as the stuttering kid? Kill them before they kill you, son."_

"Skye would never forgive me," he said softly. "Her and I, we… we made good progress earlier."

"_Don't worry about her. You'll find a new girl- " _

"I don't want a new girl, John!" Grant stared at him, refusing to back down. "I've tried to get rid of… of this weakness, but I can't."

"_That's a habit with you, son. It's disappointing." _

"You're not going to change my mind on this. Don't bother. I have a different angle."

John glared back at him before shrugging, _"You're the one alive. What angle?"_

Grant was quiet for a moment, "Skye's father. I can use him. I don't know what he is, but he's useful."

"_Interesting."_ John perked up, eyes glinting. _"How? Work your magic, son."_

"He must be pissed that Skye's working in S.H.I.E.L.D. and is in the reach of Hydra." Grant's mind recalled everything he had ever suspected, "Skye's mother, I know was murdered by Hydra and you remember the rumors about Whitehall?"

"_He experimented on gifteds to extend his own life. I wish I thought of it, but that bastard got to it first. Malick once said he took the life of an immortal woman for himself and left her broken body to dogs. I never knew if that son of a bitch was lying through his teeth; he's good."_

"But I'm better. I believe that one of the gifteds he experimented on was… Skye's mother. It's why her father, who might be another gifted or something else, has been on a rampage ever since, but he recognizes that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same so he doesn't discriminate."

"_Smart man. Why doesn't this girl of yours have a gift? She get the recessive gene or something?"_

"I don't know," he frowned in consideration. "Skye's shown no negative effects to the GH-325. In fact, she seemed… better after, besides the obvious regeneration."

"_There's a word for that, son: Bitch."_

Grant glared at him, "I don't care what Skye is, or who her parents are. None of that matters. She matters; that's it. Her father's rampage is because he lost… his family. It's the only thing that makes sense. Skye's the 0-8-4; she was stolen by S.H.I.E.L.D., but she had no protection. Her father wasn't there and neither was her mother. When Whitehall was doing his experiments, as the rumors say, it was around this time. Her father was trying to rescue his wife but failed. Maybe there's something else, something I don't know, but it makes sense. If I can get Skye out of S.H.I.E.L.D., take her with me, convince her to meet her father, then everything might fall into place. I'll talk to him, tell him what S.H.I.E.L.D. has done to Skye, and then her father will turn his gaze to this base and kill everyone, including Coulson and May. Skye will blame her father, renounce him, and- "

"_Fall right into your arms, Romeo. I don't approve of the girl, but the plan has promise. Damn, son. I'm proud of you. You're my true son, not of body but soul."_

Grant felt a weight ease from his shoulders; he knew it was irrational, to talk to a ghost of his mind, but it was his peace right now. John knew him better than anyone, always had. While he had hoped Skye would come to know him in ways that surpassed John, he knew he still had to wait. Feeling John's pride in him, he knew that sooner or later, he would be free from this damn cage in which Coulson, the murderer, had locked him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out. This story will mainly be about Ward because I thought he was definitely the most fascinating character after he was revealed to be Hydra. It was a brilliant characterization. After that it's Skye. Everyone else is bland and boring, honestly. Predictable, or they eventually get so far from their characterization that they become unrecognizable. **

****I did think it kind of strange when Skye, a person who has been obsessed with truth her entire life, folds over and seemingly accepts that Ward's a treacherous monster unworthy of contemplation. It didn't seem to make sense with her characterization. Of course, I know she's grieving all that she lost and is super angry at Ward, and then add in the fact that she fell in love with him, it kind of makes sense. But out of anyone - except maybe Fitz - Skye would be the only one who wants the truth. That should NOT change. Because if you look at Ward logically - which would definitely be super hard for anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D., and I think Skye is the only one capable of looking at him logically if she puts her mind to it - none of his actions make sense. Skye joined the Rising Tide for that reason; she wanted to expose the truth to the world, which organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't want. As Ward said to Skye in this: "Those are rigged odds, Skye. None of the numbers add up when one of the parameters is that I'm a monster."**

**So Ward knows about how May killed a young girl in Bahrain. Fury would have **_**definitely**_** known and so would Alexander Pierce if he had wanted to know, which I'm certain that he would have. He would keep an eye on all upper-level Agents, especially Specialists since they are the most dangerous, lethal. There are five Hydra Heads at the time of Hydra's uprising: Pierce, Malick, Von Strucker, Whitehall, and Garrett. I find it very hard to believe that Garrett wouldn't know about May's killing of a young girl, and then he would absolutely tell Ward for manipulation ammunition if necessary. **

**Yes, the word test from the Psychologist is based on **_**Skyfall**_** and it's from where I got the idea. It shows how Ward thinks and just how damaged he is. There was clear evidence but S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't care - which I understand why they didn't care, but they could at least be honest with themselves and not claim a moral high ground as they so often did. And if it seems that S.H.I.E.L.D. is incompetent, it's because they are. Their failure to know about Hydra is unthinkable, unprecedented, incalculable, and egregious. In all the ways they were supposed to be a protective, espionage organization of humanity, they FAILED. Fury failed, Coulson failed, Hill failed, Romanoff failed, May failed, and every member of S.H.I.E.L.D. did, too. It's actually pathetic and forces the realization about how cunning and intelligent the members of Hydra were - and that definitely includes Garrett and Ward, for they are both some of the top dogs. Yes, in this, Thomas Ward was killed via drowning in the well. It honestly makes more sense that he's dead and explains more of Ward's emotional scarring.**

**And honestly, Skye's reaction to intentionally killing someone was very, **_**very**_** lacking. I mean, she was more concerned with Simmons being in Hydra then ending someone's life. So I played with that, where she believes that she can't talk to anyone about how terrible she feels for killing Donnie Gill, so she goes to Ward because there's no one else to whom she can talk/vent because Simmons isn't there. She doesn't want to disappoint May or Coulson, so Ward, in her mind, is her only option. Now, Ward's reaction is different because of what Fitz did. It opened her eyes, so to speak. He finally realizes that no one wants him back; Fitz could have murdered him. Ward deserved it, yes, but the realizations from that experience should change Ward's approach. So Ward goes for blunt honesty and hard truths and lays it out for Skye because no one else ever would. **

****Add in that Ward is so fucked up mentally that he sees John Garrett's ghost all the time - like how Fitz was seeing Simmons - you get a different Ward. I honestly thought that they were going to have Ward see Garrett's ghost or something in S2; I thought that it would be a shared motif between Fitz and Ward, but they didn't. It would have shown how **_**deep**_** Garrett influenced Ward and perhaps why he betrayed the team. A missed chance, I think. Pretty much, Garrett is Ward's conscience. Pretty scary, right? **

**In this, Ward didn't kill Buddy; it actually makes more sense if Garrett wanted to control him, that Ward would refuse to attach himself to anyone or anything because he knows Garrett will put that person or thing down. Of course, Ward was incapable of killing any of the team when he should have easily been able to. I know that in Canon, Ward more than likely is the one who killed Buddy, but if Garrett was trying to prove that Ward can't get attached to anything, it's paradoxical because Ward was clearly attached to Garrett. Garrett was basically giving Ward permission to kill him, which would have been the last thing he would have ever wanted because Garrett wanted to live. It makes more sense and strengthens Ward's loyalty if Garrett is the one who kills Buddy. It pulls all control out of Ward's hands, so he pretty much doesn't have a choice. The only choice he knows is what Garrett wants, and even if he doesn't want to do it, such as killing Buddy or FitzSimmons, he knows that Garrett will do it - because he did it with Buddy.**

**I do think Ward was acting when Fitz drained the oxygen out of his cell; he was trained extensively by S.H.I.E.L.D. and Garrett. I can't fathom any scenario in which he doesn't know how to control his breathing and hold his breath for multiple minutes. It's also a great manipulation: using Skye's name, pretending to hyperventilate, saying the team is in danger. That forces Fitz to return the oxygen as Ward explains what he knows. Brilliant stuff (*slow clapping*), Grant Ward. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

"We need to talk about your brother," Skye's words were a rigid calm, but underneath, Grant detected the wariness.

Immediately, he was on edge; based on her body language, she was on a mission, probably in Coulson's interests. "Which one?"

Skye hesitated and looked uncomfortable; he was relieved to see that slowly, she was becoming more open with him. "Christian. The Senator."

Grant's eyes spasmed shut involuntarily, and lights exploded behind his eyes; memories surged forward at the sound of that name, and he was catapulted to the past. Christian smashing his stronger, larger fists into Grant's face and body, forcing him to do the same to Thomas, or he would be hurt worse. Christian's laughing, sneering face as Grant hysterically tried to lower the rope to the unmoving, face-down Thomas in the well. Thomas' unseeing eyes as they raised his corpse from the well, death incapable of overpowering the sheer terror in those lifeless orbs and Christian's small smile as police sirens wailed with the intensity of a starving baby.

"What about him?" Grant croaked and hated how weak he felt; Christian always made him feel weak! "Why? What _happened?"_

"I'm sorry," Skye whispered, and she was genuine, which relieved Grant more than his words could express. "But… Coulson needs to know what his habits are. Places he visits. People. Connections. Anything you think would be helpful."

"His habits are to prey on the weak," he mumbled angrily, clenching his fists, feeling the scar tissue bristle in dismay. "He visits Hell frequently; he's Satan."

Skye swallowed and he could see their conversation from the middle of the night after she had killed Donnie Gill replaying in her eyes; she regained her composure, and the fact that she looked like May enraged him, fueled even further by the Asgardian shit in his veins. "This isn't about you, Ward."

"Does he know I'm here?" Grant whispered, feeling the terror burst through his defenses; he wouldn't go back! "_Does _he?"

"That's not how it works, Ward," she stated stiffly, and Grant drowned in helpless rage as he knew they were being watched - probably by that lying, murdering Coulson! "You answer my questions. I don't answer yours."

"_No,_ you don't understand," he wildly looked around and for the first time in a long time, he intimately felt how caged he was. "You don't know him. None of you do. Nobody does!"

"Then tell me about him."

"Why the hell would I give a rat's ass about Christian?" Grant demanded harshly, ignoring how Skye twitched. "He should have been the one to die, not Thomas. Does he know I'm here?"

"That's not what I'm here to talk about, Ward."

"_What'd I tell ya, son?"_ John jovially waved from the corner of his vision and he tried to ignore him. _"Maybe your words reached a small part of her, but she ain't gonna help you. You can only rely on yourself. You used to be able to rely on me, but my daisy-kicking days have begun. If only you hadn't failed. I could stop your brother. Hell, I'd go in and shoot him dead for you. Better yet, you should be the one to blow his brains out. Prove he's no longer a weakness."_

"Ward?" Skye stared at him strangely and Grant feared she knew what was happening before his cold logic overpowered his irrational fears. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she shook herself and he understood; they were being watched. "Your brother?"

"You want to know about Christian? _Fine._ You've met assholes, but if you meet him, you'll have met your first monster."

Skye stiffened and he stared, transfixed at the anger in her eyes. "I thought you said you wouldn't lie to me."

Grant paused, "_What? _What are you talking about? I haven't lied to you. Not once."

"In case you forgot, I already met my first monster when Garrett came on the Bus."

"_Woof!"_ John hooted from the corner of his eyes, laughing boisterously. _"Damn, son. If I was years younger, I'm sure she'd give me a good fuck. That spunk! They didn't make them like that in my day."_

"You draw your conclusions from a flawed perception," he said through gritted teeth, ignoring John; the mention of Christian had ruined his composure. "You didn't know John."

"He had me shot!" Skye spat out and her hand unconsciously went to her stomach. "Don't you remember, Ward? You stood by and did nothing!"

"_And I regret nothing! I'd do it again. Watching Quinn piss his trousers during that interrogation was fun." _John declared with that charming smile and Grant felt himself being pulled by two opposing forces. _"I may like this girl, son, but she weakens you like nothing I've ever seen. Not even that dog did this to you. Cut her out. Do it now! Break out and squeeze the life out of her! You've been in tighter places than this, remember? You were climbing asses just to get out of- "_

"You have nothing to say?" Skye's words brought him away from John and the look of betrayal and rage on her face reminded him to whom he should pay attention.

"I didn't know," he said slowly, clearly, and honestly. "I had no idea that Quinn was going to shoot you- "

"The _hell_ you didn't!" Skye spat, hugging herself, "You and Garrett told each other everything! You knew I was going to be shot, so he could force D.C. to find- "

"He shot you to get at _me!"_ The words tore out of him without his approval and Grant hissed between his teeth, aggressively scratched at his beard in frustration as he realized how compromised he was right now. Breathing heavily, all of his control leaving him, he turned away from a speechless Skye, but when he saw John's knowing, smug face, he whirled back to face her. "I was… I was _compromised_. John knew it. He knew everything. He knew just… just from the tone of my fucking voice when we talked on the phone. The moment I mentioned you, he _knew_. He knew what I felt. What you meant to me." Skye stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, and he continued, trying to ignore whatever John was saying to his right; he didn't even care that Coulson was listening. "Yes, the fact that John knew Coulson would do anything to save you factored into it, but it was a reminder to me. It was killing two birds with one stone, he said."

Skye swallowed thickly, "Then you're the next monster I met. You still did nothing!"

Grant honestly had no idea if she said that because she genuinely meant it, or if she was trying to appease the eaves-dropping Coulson. "I'm sorry."

"And you know what?" She straightened and authentic ire glowed in her hypnotic eyes. "You didn't mention that my father was a murderer. He's monster number three!"

"You found him," he whispered in realization.

"He's a _murderer,_" she hissed and he inwardly sighed, wondering how long she could hold onto her delusions about S.H.I.E.L.D. "Just like Garrett, and just like you."

"_She doesn't let things go, this one,"_ John muttered from his right. _"Not the brightest, is she?"_

"I didn't tell you to spare you," he said gently, holding her irate gaze. "I knew how it would make you feel."

"Why would I believe that?"

"You know why."

Skye froze for a moment before she shook her head. "Whatever your reasoning, he's still a _murderer!"_

"Just like Fury, Coulson, May, Tripp, and any Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.," he listed dryly, trying to regain his control; he tried not to feel guilty at her flinch when she obviously thought of Donnie Gill. "What's the difference, Skye? What did your father do that's so much worse? Is it the fact that he's your father? Have you forgotten about Deathlok?"

Skye shook, chaotic emotions swirling through her eyes. "Mike's son was _kidnapped!_ That was what you and your _precious_ _John_ did! Everything Mike did is on your head! He should have stopped your heart permanently."

That hurt, but Grant didn't let her see it; he honestly wasn't sure if she meant that.

"_I apologized, didn't I?" _John sighed dramatically,_ "You're not going to let that go, son? It was a strategic move to get the girl to act. Nothing more. I knew, and you knew, that she would cave; she loved you. I used her weakness. Don't let Phil and these softies use yours."_

"What did your father do, Skye?" Grant asked; he knew by the man's reputation what Skye's father was capable of, but he was interested to know. "What was it? What did you see? Did you talk to him?"

Skye licked her lips and shook her head, eyes blazing. "_That _is not why I'm down here."

Grant tensed at the reminder, "Does Christian know I'm here? Does he? What _happened?"_

"Your brother hates S.H.I.E.L.D., and he's trying to pass a bill that will give all military on Earth the capability of shooting any Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. on sight."

"That's why you need to get out, Skye," he felt no surprise at the knowledge of such a bill; it was an election year. "This isn't for you. I know you. Get out of S.H.I.E.L.D. while you still can. Before Christian gets the bill passed. He _always_ gets what he wants. I would know. Look, I know what I am. I've always known," his eyes locked onto hers. "Christian's _worse._ He talks and talks and pretends to bare his soul because he's so charming, seems so truthful, but it's all a grand lie. Why else did he go into politics? Because he can manipulate anyone. His words, they have this effect on people. They get stuck in your head; they're _painful_. Don't believe anything he says. _Ever._"

She stared at him for several moments and he couldn't decipher what she was thinking; she inhaled through her nose slowly. "That's good. Now, what intel do you have about him?"

"What makes you or Coulson think I kept tabs on Christian?"

"_Not even I bought that one, son."_ John sounded disappointed, _"Come on. Get your head out of your ass. It ain't a hat."_

Skye only raised an eyebrow; she, too, didn't buy it. "I don't like it, but I know you, Ward. You wouldn't be able to let your brother out of your sight. You'd always somehow be watching him. You're obsessive. What can you tell me?"

Grant didn't speak for several moments, mind cycling through everything he knew about Christian and the conversations which would follow down each path. "You'll fail. Christian always wins. He has the angle, and you don't see it coming until it's too late. You can't beat him. _Surrender._ You can't outsmart him or stop him. If Coulson thinks that, he's naiver and dumber than I thought."

"_Phil's lost a few steps, hasn't he?" _John asked rhetorically, _"But he still made me a puddle. That son of a bitch."_

"Advice isn't what I'm looking for, Ward. Locations he goes to a lot, people he hangs out with, anything that could give us an edge."

"The only edge you'll get is the sharp knife pressed against your throat as he gloats," Grant stared at her. "I would never lie about Christian. I didn't lie about your father, either."

Skye's eyes sparked, "You failed to mention that he's a monster like you!"

"That's enough," Coulson's distinct bland voice echoed, and Grant looked up to the top of the stairs, rage drowning his heart; he was clearly compromised if he hadn't noticed Coulson appear there several seconds before intervening. "I'll take it from here, Agent Skye. You may leave."

Grant's eyes connected to Skye's for a brief moment and he knew that her anger at him was genuine; it was true, at least for a while until she cooled off. Hopefully, it would fade quickly and he wouldn't have more work to do. He was sick of explaining himself, and he knew Skye was the only one who listened and tried to understand, especially since she had killed Donnie Gill, but what if she stopped?

The thought left him helpless.

Skye left and Coulson stood before him, looking infallible, but Grant knew how deep the facade went; he had to break it. This was the bastard who had killed John!

"I'm sick of you, Ward. This game has gone on long enough. Tell me what I need to know about your brother, the Senator."

"And if I don't?" Grant drawled, feeling his control swiftly reappear now that Skye had left. "_Torture?_ Not going to work."

"I would ask you what you want, but we both know the answer to that." Coulson leaned forward and his eyes were burning. "You'll never have her. She _hates _you. Don't you see it? I know you do. I know how you were trained; you're brilliant. Skye will never forgive you, and neither will anyone."

"You're not going to ask if I want anything else?" He asked lazily, sweeping his arm around, gesturing to the cell. "I could use a lot."

"What do you want?"

Grant smirked, "A bed."

"Mockery isn't going to- "

"You know, I've slept on far worse, but a bed's a bed. I'd like one of those, what do you call it, memory-foam mattresses. Some lumbar support would be nice."

Coulson smiled thinly, "You're not getting a bed, Ward. Stop playing games."

"But games are fun, Coulson. Didn't you once tell me to lighten up and enjoy life?"

"That was before your true nature as a terrorist, Nazi-loving dog was revealed."

"A _terrorist?"_ Grant echoed and he looked to the side, and John's amused face gave him confidence. "Now you're projecting what you believe Hydra is onto me. Hell, you probably think I'm Hitler reborn. If you want to play at having the moral high ground, _Phil,_ make sure you're right. How _misguided_ you are. The least you could do is stop being inconsistent, and admit that you're compromised."

Coulson facade broke slightly before it healed. "I clearly was to fail in not sniffing out your true nature."

"Now comparing yourself to a dog?" Grant intentionally chuckled, knowing he was getting Coulson closer and closer to losing control; it's what he wanted, needed! "Well, that's all you were, right? Fury's moral dog. One he couldn't let die in peace. At least you realize that."

"And you were Garrett's snarling one. Tell me about your brother."

"Not before I get my bed. I think a rejuvenating night's sleep will help me remember certain details- "

"Not happening. You're going to sleep on that slab for the rest of your miserable life. You deserve nothing less."

"_And he didn't deserve resurrection!"_ John spat, words snapping through the air like a gunshot, but Grant knew he was the only one who heard them. _"Fucking Fury didn't want his favorite boy-toy dyin' on him. I bet Phil takes it up the ass. You agree, son?"_

Grant ignored John, focusing on Coulson. "Then make do with what I told Skye. I'll tell her anything, but you? _No._ My generosity begins and ends with her. Maybe if you brought FitzSimmons down- "

"_Not_ happening, Ward. You've tortured them enough."

"Torture? I assume you saw what Fitz did when he came down here." Coulson didn't react and Grant nodded calmly, "You should try suffocation. But for you, they shouldn't return the oxygen. You never deserved this second life."

"And you deserve this cell for the rest of your life; the road to redemption you're clearly scheming towards will never be paved."

"_Phil always liked goofy-ass metaphors." _John sounded exasperated but the rage was there. _"Don't know what to make of that one. You're the one with the big brain."_

"Then I'll wear boots," he replied dryly.

Coulson smiled but there was no sincerity or mirth in it. "I see you for what you are now. We all do. That includes Skye."

"Are we going to do this again? Grant wondered idly, "What have you built in your mind? What am I?"

"In case it wasn't clear enough from my previous words and Skye's, you're a monster, Ward. No one wants you. Your mentor is dead -"

"_Phil ain't beating around the bush, is he?" _John's voice reached him. _"Funny how he never told you what really happened to me. And to think he and I used to be friends."_

"- and you will be locked in a cage for the rest of your miserable life. You're never going to breathe fresh air or feel the sunlight warming your skin. You're going to become dreadfully pale, and nobody will come for you. This is where you will stay."

Grant stared at him lazily, the words passing through him without effect. While he wanted to bring up John's death, he didn't mention that he knew Coulson was who killed John; it would have revealed that Skye had spoken to him when she wasn't supposed to.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," he noticed the subtle tightening of the shoulders. "Do you know how many opportunities I had? _Innumerable._ I could have done it in so many ways. Would you like me to list them?"

"Don't _bother._ I have a working picture."

"_Make it more vivid!"_ John ordered, _"Make him remember it forever!"_

"Because it haunts you, doesn't it?" Grant leaned forward, close enough to the energy barrier that he felt the sparks crackle, but he ignored it; they didn't hurt. "You've already died and the thought of it happening again terrifies you."

"Psychological attacks aren't going to work, Ward."

"But they already have," he observed. "You're compromised, Coulson. You're vindictive, vengeful. Don't play at being 'the good guy' in this because you're like everyone else. Admit it. Stop being the hypocrite; be _honest_ with yourself."

"Like you were honest with us?" Coulson shook his head, "These tricks of yours will fail. Skye sees you for the monster you are. We all do."

"Has it started?" Grant tilted his head, eyes peering at Coulson; he knew how to break him. "The GH-325. Have you gone insane yet? Drawing shit on random objects? I think you have because, as I said earlier, you're naiver and dumber than ever." Coulson stiffened and beneath that suit, the body was tight, and Grant knew his assumption was right. "This is good. You made my day. _Thank you._ I'm the only one who knows what happens to those going insane from the GH-325. You still need me. I'm still wanted. You miscalculated, _Phil._"

"_Atta boy!" _John hooted, forcefully clapping his hands. _"Romanoff can't touch you, son. Avenge me!"_

Coulson stared at him, resentment burning in those usually bland eyes. "You're nothing but a carbon-copy of Garrett. Everything about you, it's all from him. You're not your own man; you're nothing but what Garrett made you."

Grant felt nothing but pride, "Is that supposed to hurt me? Shows how compromised you are, _Director._ You can't even look at me without rage; it's in your eyes. I can see it. Nothing is hidden from me."

"Tell me about your brother."

"Struck a nerve, I see. Switching the subject in a desperate bid to regain control, both of the conversation and yourself. How pathetic. I know you, Coulson. It must _gnaw_ at you, the fact that you, Fury, Romanoff, Hill, and all the other self-proclaimed geniuses of S.H.I.E.L.D. were so stupid, so blind, so amateur, so _incompetent_." Grant leaned closer, John egging him on, delighting in Coulson's burning eyes. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is interchangeable with Hydra; they're the same. You were working for Hydra, _Phil_. You always were. None of your brightest and greatest agents ever had an inkling that S.H.I.E.L.D. festered its doom since the organization's inception. Not Peggy Carter, not any of those 'great minds.' Rogers' sacrifice was redundant because you all failed. _Three_ of the Hydra Heads were in constant interaction with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s so-called geniuses for the past twenty-five years. You even had Zola working for you, and it allowed him to finish his enhancements on the Soldier! It's _amazing,_ isn't it? How colossal your failure. It's on par with Nero watching Rome burn- "

"That's enough, Ward." Coulson's voice had quieted, an availing attempt to keep himself in control, but it would never work. This was what Grant was good at, breaking targets, forcing them to cave, tell him essential and classified information, and then killing them if required. "Last chance. Tell me about your brother."

"I already told Skye. You weren't listening. Come on, _Director,_" he taunted coldly, lips sneering. "You've lost a few steps. Maybe it's the GH-325. John went insane, and I think you're beginning to. Do you want to talk about it?" His mocking voice reached his own ears and he didn't care; the moment Christian was brought up, his control fled. "I'm the only one who will _understand._ You don't know what's happening, but I do. I've seen it. I can't wait until you don't make sense; then you might finally decide to shut your fucking mouth."

Coulson whirled around and Grant's control wasn't the only one that had fled; stomping to the stairs, tablet in hand, the eyes were colder than ice. "That's your prophecy? Here's mine: You'll die alone, and when you do, you'll be welcomed into Hell by Garrett with abusive arms. You'll wander in eternal torment dumb and mute, and then everyone will know how much of a delusional son of a bitch you are. Enjoy your isolation, Ward. You'll be in Hell with Garrett soon enough."

The energy barrier turned opaque and all was silent for several moments before John whistled loudly, applauding with pride.

"_I'm impressed. You got to inscrutable Phil. Well done, son."_

"What happens next?" Grant wondered, "Execution?"

"_I've heard lethal injection is a hell of a way to go. Maybe they'll burn ya? That'd be ironic: A pyro dying by fire."_

"Whatever it is, it will be my opportunity," he whispered. "This is when it gets fun."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Coulson tried to read the speech, but his eyes were seeing without clarity; it was hard to think. The Senator was Ward's brother and he was preparing himself for a man like Ward, a monster but one who abuses and drowns brothers. While he didn't know if Ward's story about his brothers were true, it was hard to forget that enraged, powerful, lethal man the Asgardian staff had turned him into. He was more willing to bet that the staff had merely wiped away the mask to hide the monster, and Coulson had failed to identify the truth.

Thinking about Ward catapulted him back and he remembered the monster in the basement. There was nothing similar to the fake Ward. The real face had been revealed and what Coulson had seen was the coldest man he had ever encountered, and he had met terrible people. Not even Romanoff, when Barton had brought her to him, had been as cold as Ward. Not even May on a rough day was as cold, for she felt things, emotions, but Ward clearly didn't beyond a murderous loyalty for Garrett. Ward was also the most dangerous human he had encountered; while Thor and Hulk were beyond fathoming, there was something about Ward that emanated danger because he was unpredictable with no morality.

Ward's damned words from Vault D pestered him; they were haunting because, loathe as he was to admit it, the back-stabbing bastard was right. Coulson and everyone he knew in S.H.I.E.L.D. had failed. Their combined failure had brought them to this point, in which they were the underdogs and Hydra the predator. Fury had nearly been murdered by the Winter Soldier, a man who Fury had suggested was the Howling Commandos' Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America's best friend, and Hydra had taken so many friends from him, good people. At the forefront was Garrett, and the fact that Ward was right about his fear of death infuriated him. It terrorized his dreams, the fact that he could have been murdered so many times in his life, for the opportunities for both Ward and Garrett were countless.

He yearned for the days on the Bus before Hydra; he missed them, and the only change he would make is to eliminate Ward before the traitor fundamentally damaged all of them. Coulson hated what happened and the blame lay at Ward's clawed feet. Fitz, while he had recovered from Ward's attack, was still profoundly emotionally shaken and as a result, had trouble with words and complicated thinking - things which should be effortless for him. Simmons had transformed from mild and compassionate to angry; her eagerness to go into Hydra, while a relief, was upsetting. May was more aloof than ever, even more than after Bahrain, and she returned to the field with a ruthlessness that he feared would set a poor example for other Agents.

Then there was Skye.

Ward's treachery had transformed her into a new person. When he had first met her, she had been blatantly conflicted, but after she was caught with Miles, she changed; she fully immersed herself with the idea of S.H.I.E.L.D. and played a big part in everything to follow. Skye became a pillar upon which everyone could lean; she never lost sight of what mattered, even as Hydra tore out of S.H.I.E.L.D. like a monstrous demon-child. They had all failed to see Ward for who he was, and it cost them, and it seemed to somehow cost Skye more than it did Fitz. Her sarcasm had returned stronger and more biting than ever, and while she did try to talk to him about Ward and Garrett, he firmly discouraged her thinking, knowing it would bring her nothing but further heartbreak.

All her once-brilliant smiles had vanished; her emotions were stuffed in an armored box, incapable of being released. She was acting the opposite of who she had been, and each smile she offered now was clearly forced; her eyes were dim with grief and rage - and it was all because of Ward.

They had all been taken in by the farce, and Garrett and Ward had capitalized, ripping everything apart like paper. It was sickening, each time he confronted Ward in Vault D, how the similarities - _the mannerisms and arrogance!_ \- between Ward and Garrett were there; they had always there, hidden beneath the facade of a loyal Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he had been taken for a fool. Thankfully, Skye had shown nothing but contempt for Ward since his treachery, and her skill at handling him in Vault D had caught his eye more than once; she had learned a lesson, but Coulson had never wanted her to learn it. Others should have learned it, not her, but Hydra's Uprising ensured everyone learned the lesson.

The door suddenly opened, and the Senator swept into the room, body poised and in control, not sparing a glance at anything as he strode to his desk, slamming the folder with the force of an explosion.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Coulson tilted his head from the corner, where he was hiding in the shadows of the bookcases. "I only just got here."

"_Who_ are you?" the Senator's eyes immediately locked onto him and Coulson was unable to prevent his body from stiffening; the Senator's eyes were identical to Ward's, and Coulson did his best to quell the nausea the sight of those eyes caused him. "Why are you here?"

"I'm Phil Coulson," he hid his unease but for whatever reason, just as he had always felt with the damned Ward, the Senator seemed to see through him. "You recognize me."

"How could I not?" The Senator smiled coldly, and Coulson felt sick again; it was just like Ward and Garrett. "The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has been of interest to me. You're a terrorist."

Coulson held up the papers in his hand. "You might want to compose a new speech."

"Why is that, Mr. Coulson?"

"This one's very boring; you should make it funnier."

"You should tell me what you are doing here, Mr. Coulson, before you're arrested. Coming after a United States Senator is unwise. It might be the last emotion you ever feel, depending on if you resist your arrest."

"So, Talbot's mentioned me? That's nice to know," he hummed. "You need to stop this bill you're proposing."

The Senator reached for his phone and Coulson saw the realization light up in those too-similar-to-Ward's eyes after several moments; the phone was put down. "You cut the line?"

"Something like that. Your men will also be unavailable for, who knows, an hour."

"Colloquially, you have big balls, Mr. Coulson." The Senator leaned back in his chair and he looked at ease; it reminded Coulson of Ward and Garrett. "What do you _want?"_

Coulson mentally shook himself, "To share some truths."

"I'm a Senator, Mr. Coulson. I'm more than aware of how apparent truths can be manipulated to benefit one's agenda. Spare me."

"The attack on the U.N. wasn't by S.H.I.E.L.D., but rather Hydra." Coulson supposed it was a Ward family trait, for the Senator didn't even react. "The attack was coordinated by Daniel Whitehall, a man we believe to be one of the Hydra Heads."

"Have you tried cutting off the head and cauterizing the wound?" The Senator raised a facetious eyebrow; it was another reminder of Ward and Garrett. "I heard that's how it works."

"I'm afraid, Senator, we haven't had- "

"You have nothing to offer me," the Senator cut him off, leaning forward. "This is nothing but conjecture; there is no evidence. Why would I trust the word of the Director of a terrorist organization who has broken into my office and done who-knows-what to my men?"

"If you would give me- "

"I've given you more than enough time, Mr. Coulson. What did you think would happen? S.H.I.E.L.D. is a _terrorist _organization; nothing will change that. The American people want an enemy and S.H.I.E.L.D. is the enemy."

Coulson quelled the urge to sigh; he tried a different tactic. "How will the American people react to the fact that your brother is Hydra?"

The Senator's lips parted at the mention of Ward and suddenly, Coulson saw behind the mask of a politician; there was sadness, realization, fear, and anger. "_Grant?"_

"I don't think they'll be too forgiving, especially in an election year. This would ruin your career, which many claims will propel you to President in the next election for the White House if no blemishes appear. That all vanishes if this truth is revealed."

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Your brother's locked up in my basement," he smiled blandly. "I'm sick of him. The rat bastard tried to murder people I care about."

"He's gotten worse, hasn't he?" The Senator sat down, head down. "I had always wondered."

Coulson leaned forward, "_Worse?"_

"Since from when we were children."

"Ward told me about the well. He claimed you- "

"Of course, he did," the frustration was tangible, and the Senator's eyes were hazy in remembrance; there was no deceit. "Grant could never get out of his head. I don't know if I ever heard him tell the truth, not once. Beneath all the lies he feeds everyone, there are only more lies. He fantasized and he made those fantasies reality. He began torturing animals. I once found him skinning a live squirrel." Coulson contained his horror and his own aggravation; he should have known! "It escalated. Mother and father were terrified, beyond themselves. No one knew what to do. Grant didn't listen to any of us, and he _hated_ Thomas."

"Your other brother? The… one who died?"

The Senator looked up at him, "Let me guess. Grant said that I killed Thomas."

"He did."

A flash of rage crossed the Senator's face; it was authentic. "That _bastard_. Grantmurdered Thomas! I found him floating in the well after he went missing for several hours! He- he was face-down and _motionless_." Coulson leaned back and hated himself for being so thoroughly played by Ward. "It was Grant. Everyone knew he did it. But… no one could make him talk. He creates these delusions in his mind and personifies them in reality. I have borne the brunt of his persecution since he murdered Thomas. Eventually, mother and father put him away at military school after he tried to murder me, and we never heard from him."

Coulson stiffened, "Ward attempted to murder _you?"_

"Ahh, Grant forgot to mention that, didn't he?" The Senator nodded in sad understanding. "He crossed one brother off, the weaker one, and tried to get me. He nearly did. He set the house on fire while I was inside. I barely got out… Since military school, I've tried to forget about Grant. I had hoped him to be dead, to be honest." Coulson didn't blame the Senator; he felt the same. "But the man I am today, every decision that I've ever made, is based on my memory of Grant. He affects me to this day. I lost a brother because of him."

"Were you aware that your brother worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"It recently came to my attention when- "

"Hydra came out of the shadows," he finished in understanding. "Ward was part of my team and he tried to murder my friends. The blade in the dark that kills everyone. That's why the rat bastard's locked in my basement. I can give him to you. You can gain closure and do what you want with him."

"And in return?"

"You stop coming after S.H.I.E.L.D. and instead go after Hydra; they're the bad guys. Not us."

The Senator stared at him for several moments before nodding. "I believe we have come to an accord, Mr. Coulson."

"Glad to hear it, Senator Ward." Coulson reached over and they shook hands, "I have to ask. What was the age difference between you and… Grant?"

"Seven years. I was old enough to remember him from when he was a baby; he was a cute thing. I was so proud, but- "

"Proud?"

The Senator inhaled slowly, "Ruth was older than me by a year, and she always looked down on me."

"Ruth? The sister?"

"Yes. She's married now and has beautiful children. Anyway, I wanted to be a good older brother, a protector, and I saw in Grant, my opportunity; he was to be my pride. You see, our family is _very_ wealthy, and that wealth has passed from generation to generation. Our father and mother were busy all the time, always at state or federal functions. They traveled frequently. Ruth and I - and the servants and maids, of course - became the main caretakers of Grant and Thomas. I was so young, but I remember. It was horrible."

"Meaning?"

"Grant was different from the beginning," the Senator's eyes were mesmerizing and the honesty flowing forth was so refreshing. "He saw things and I still don't know if it was just in his mind or not. The memories are disturbing."

Coulson nodded amiably, pleased to know that one - maybe two, depending on the sister - Wards were good in the world instead of back-stabbing traitors. "I understand. You don't need- "

"No," the Senator interrupted sadly. "My brother has wronged you deeply. I know how that feels. As he aged, Grant became uncontrollable. No one could get him to do anything. He _hated _Thomas; he would beat him up, and I always tried to stop it. I was still a child myself, and I wish my response was different."

"You beat him up to show him how it feels?"

"I did, but Grant's rage and delusions only increased in their severity. Nothing worked. Thomas was so _scared_ of Grant; he clung to me and tried to avoid him, but some things are… unavoidable. I couldn't be everywhere at once. Grant took every opportunity he could; he tortured Thomas and one time, I found him with a knife, looming over a fallen, bleeding Thomas." The Senator bowed his head in grief, helplessness. "But it wasn't that which haunts me. It's what happened right after. Grant… he got Thomas alone - how, I still don't know - and pulled him out of the house and threw him… down the well. Thomas was too injured to try to fight back or keep himself afloat. By the time I found him… he had been dead for hours. Drowning."

Coulson closed his eyes, hating that he had allowed such a monster access to the team, to Skye. "You never have to worry about your brother again, Senator Ward. Soon it will all be over."

The Senator smiled, "Yes, it will."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"How do you do it?" Jemma suddenly asked and Skye jumped in surprise; she turned away from the pixelated image of Ward in Vault D to see her friend standing next to her warily, eyes noticeably not looking at the feed. "I don't understand."

Skye ran her hand through her hair and sighed. "I don't understand, either."

"How do you talk to him? Doesn't he… _sicken_ you?"

"He never did," she said softly. "I'm so angry and hurt, but… I've never been disgusted by him."

Jemma sat down, a sad gleam in her eye. "Do you know why he… did those things?"

"Everything Ward did was to help Garrett. I… I know that… and I think I even understand it." Skye felt helpless at how monumentally impossible it was to currently hate Ward; she wanted to, but she couldn't. Not anymore. She was still so angry and hurt, but the hatred had disappeared. "Garrett was everything to Ward. He was… the father Ward never had."

"And how did trying to murder Fitz and I help Garrett?" Jemma's lips curled, "Ward is why- why Fitz is… _different_."

At the mention of Fitz, Skye couldn't help the sudden tension in her shoulders and behind her eyes. She had looked into what Ward had said about Fitz and… she had found the video; it was horrifying. Skye had watched, ashen-faced, as Ward was deprived of oxygen, just as he had told her, and the terror in her heart while watching the events of which she knew nothing alerted her to how she truly felt about Ward. For whatever reason, Skye loved him. That was just her luck; she had to fall in love with an asshole with monstrous tendencies who adores a man who was a monster. Thankfully, Fitz had been unable to kill Ward, and had returned the oxygen to Ward after Ward had said something, leading to a brief conversation in which Skye assumed they spoke about brainwashing. But it had opened Skye's eyes.

Everyone was changing. Jemma was different since getting back from Hydra - and why she had to go there was beyond Skye's mental capacity, and if she thought about it for too long, she grew very angry - and May was colder than ever. Coulson was acting strangely, and Fitz could barely create sentences and could have murdered Ward in Vault D. Skye herself had changed; she had killed someone and as Ward had clearly observed, was becoming like May. It was terrifying; it was something she didn't want, to be ice-cold.

Then when she had hacked into secure servers that had tried to collect the massive S.H.I.E.L.D. database dump that Black Widow was responsible for, she had sifted through everything that she could. It had taken long hours in her room, but she had found a damning brief Psychological recommendation about Agent Melinda May: _Terminating the young girl in Bahrain has left Agent May emotionally traumatized and severely incapable in the role of a Specialist. Termination of field-duty and taking a desk-job are advised._

It was a bucket of freezing water, the realizations, knowing that Ward had been telling the truth. It made her recall Ward's question about redemption, when he had shocked her about his ability to make a pop-culture reference - and make a really good one at that! While Darth Vader getting redemption happened in a movie, the fact that Ward brought up Black Widow caused Skye to call everything into question. Based on all the files she had seen on the S.H.I.E.L.D. database dump that Black Widow herself had caused, Black Widow had been a terrible person. A weapon, a seductress who slit throats in bed. Ward was actually pointing out a terrible hypocrisy: If Black Widow got redemption, why couldn't he?

Every answer that popped into her mind scared her. It made her question everything about S.H.I.E.L.D. and even Coulson.

Skye looked at the expectant, anxious Jemma and became aware that she hadn't answered the question. "Well, Ward… would follow orders. Garrett preached, and Ward acted to please him, to save him. If Garrett thought you were a threat, which I don't know why- "

Jemma's lips pursed, "Fitz and I actually… attacked Garrett. It was… with an E.M.P. that- that shut down his Deathlok machinery. He- he was _dying_."

Light burst from behind her eyes. "You… you tried to _kill _Garrett?" Skye echoed hollowly and suddenly, a nightmarish image conceptualized in her mind. She could see it - _oh, she could see it happening!_ Ward watches the man he adores more than anyone, the man who had conditioned him for at least fifteen years, fall, and in a protective rage, he kills Fitz and Simmons. Wait, that wasn't what happened. It couldn't have been. Fitz and Simmons were still alive. Ward's initial reaction wasn't murderous rage stemming from the powerful instinct to protect his father. His instinct must have been to be by his father's side as he laid dying, and Garrett, the monster that he was, would order the death of Fitz and Simmons on his deathbed; it wasn't Ward who wanted them dead, but Garrett. Ward goes after them as they're running away, but instead of blowing them away with bullets, he allows them to make it into the medical pod. "Oh, _Jemma_," she whispered. "Why? _Why_ did you do that?"

Jemma frowned, incredulous, "We did what we had to! Fitz had the- "

"That's what did it," she murmured, feeling shaken. "That pissed off Garrett and he wanted you and Fitz killed."

"Oh, it bloody-well angered him. Those eyes… I can still picture them. I met another monster in John Garrett."

Skye grasped Jemma's arm, "Ward would only do what Garrett wanted him to. Everything he did was to please Garrett, to help him, to save his life. If Garrett ordered Ward to kill you and Fitz…"

"That's what _happened,_" Jemma tensed and Skye removed her hand. "Fitz and I were running- "

"But you're alive," Skye interrupted in realization; it was finally hitting her. "If Garrett wanted you dead, Ward should have… done what he was told."

"He _did,_ Skye. I don't understand. What's going on? Why are you… _defending_ Ward?"

"I'm trying to make sense of everything," she responded quickly. "None of it's been adding up. Isn't it… _weird_ that none of us are dead?" Jemma opened her mouth in outrage, but Skye spoke first. "Think about it. Even after Hydra came out of the shadows, we were all at Providence. Ward… he could have effortlessly killed all of us." Skye suddenly felt nauseous; it was the first time she had actually thought about it. Ward's words suddenly returned to her: _'I could have killed any of you anytime I wanted… I had so many opportunities that I can't even remember them all…'_ She stared at Jemma and she was relieved to see that Jemma was clearly thinking it over. "If Ward was… truly a monster, he would have… slaughtered you, Fitz, Tripp, Koenig, Tripp, and May immediately when he was given the chance at Providence. If… if Ward was a monster, there would have been a lot more bodies found than just Koenig's. He must have had so many chances to kill everyone. Ward would have then taken me and Coulson to Garrett."

Jemma's lips parted, "Skye, you can't be saying that- "

"But look at what happened, Jemma. The odds of all of us surviving _Grant Ward_, the prodigy Specialist, are… they must be in the negatives. _Impossible._"

"No, no," Jemma shook her head rapidly. "That- that _can't be._ We're missing something. We're missing variables- "

"We're not missing anything," she whispered. "We have the facts. I've unscrambled them and… realized that- "

"Is that why you keep watching him? Trying to… reconcile your realizations with the monster you know him to be."

"At first, I watched him because I missed him," she admitted quietly, feeling ashamed. "That's how it started but now… I watch him to force myself to think, to look at all the facts and find the truth. What I've found is that… that Ward… he's not a monster. Garrett was the monster." Skye's fists clenched and the venom poured out. "I _hate_ that man. That- that _monster._ More than anyone else I've ever met. What he did to Ward- "

"Ward had a bloody choice!" Jemma snapped, eyes frantic with emotions. "He _chose_ to do that! He chose to murder all those people! He chose to follow that lunatic! He chose to drop the med pod into the ocean! He gave Fitz brain damage!"

"I know," Skye licked her lips. "Believe me, _I know._ It's kept me awake at night, thinking about all of this, but… I've always wanted to know the truth. I've wanted others to know the truth. It's- it's why I joined the Rising Tide. I want to know the truth about Ward. I have to know, to _understand._ Everything that you've thought, everything you're thinking right now, it's all occurred to me already. Ward made his decisions but… Garrett throws a wrench into everything. If Ward had done all of those things without Garrett, then there'd be nothing to… to call into question. He'd be the monster in the basement, but none of us know what Garrett did to him, how he… conditioned him."

"What are you talking about?" Jemma demanded hotly, "Garrett was Ward's S.O. and Tripp said how- "

"Garrett was _more_ than Ward's S.O., Jemma. He was… Ward's father. Ward told me he knew Garrett since he was _fifteen_-years-old. I think… Ward might have been brainwashed."

"Like _Donnie?"_

Skye was unable to prevent her flinch, but she tried to keep Jemma from commenting on it. "No. Not- not that way. Like… I remember reading something about a dog being conditioned to drool when food is near or somethi- "

Jemma blinked before a foul expression crossed her face, looking like she might scoff. "You think Ward was conditioned by Garrett like some sort of bloody Pavlovian dog?"

"He said he knew Garrett since he was _fifteen_-years-old, Jemma. I don't- "

"You _believe _him? He's obviously lying, Skye! S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson would know that! They would have known!"

"I thought that, too," she nodded sadly. "Nobody knew. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson had no idea. Because they never… _looked._ I wanted to just write Ward off, but… it would've haunted me. I needed to try to understand what happened, to find the truth, and I think I'm getting there. I didn't want to look back one day and… feel _regret_. I wanted to try everything I could first. I need to understand."

"I suppose… that's… commendable."

"Thank you. Ward knew Garrett for _fifteen _years and met him when he was a teenager. I mean, can you remember when you were fifteen? How… how _impressionable _we were? And Ward's a guy; they mature slower than us! If Garrett got to Ward that early, then no matter how painful, everything… it makes sense. Everything Ward did, why he chose to follow Garrett, makes sense. Ward knew Garrett for_ half his life_." Skye inhaled roughly, controlling her emotions. "Honestly, how could Ward have… have _not_ followed him? If he had known Garrett for _fifteen _years? Thought of that monster as his father?" She remembered the Psychological word test, "His… savior? Thinking about it makes me sick, realizing what Garrett did to him- "

Jemma narrowed her eyes; she looked pissed. "I'm _not_ willing to believe any of this, but… in this fantasy, was Ward… kidnapped by Garrett?"

"Garrett got Ward out of juvie back in 1999. I found the records of a Grant Douglas Ward in a Juvenile Secure Unit in Plymouth, Massachusetts. One day, he just disappeared and wasn't seen again. How Garrett got Ward out, I don't know." Skye frowned in realization, "Actually, I have no idea what happened after that and before he arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Operations Division. I read his file. Ward went to the Academy when he was twenty and graduated in record time. So, if he met Garrett when he was fifteen, what happened during those five years after juvie? There was no record of him? He just… appeared out of nowhere."

"And went on to ruin our lives; he's _Hydra!_ I feel like you're _forgetting_ that, Skye. Ward caused Fitz's condition!"

"I've forgotten nothing, Jemma."

"Yet you're defending him, analyzing his actions, and creating a fantasy backstory that has no substance." Anger began to bleed into her tone, and Skye understood. "You're _watching_ him!"

"I've noticed some things."

"What powers of observation do you have that no one else does?" Jemma asked quite haughtily, nose red with anger. "Why are you taking this upon yourself? You must stop!"

Skye sighed and felt so tired; she felt it in her bones. "I'm no expert, but… I seem to be the only one looking at Ward - or trying to look at Ward - logically. I'm the only one who's been trying to understand what happened. Why Ward betrayed- "

"None of us _care!"_ Jemma erupted, body shaking, "None of us are going to waste our time with an unfeeling monster! We don't care why Ward betrayed us and tried to kill Fitz and me! We care that he _did!_ Ward deserves to _rot._ Fitz is… he's not the same. I can't look at him," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "All I remember is him sacrificing himself, giving me the oxygen, so… so I could live."

"You can't blame yourself for that. Fitz made that decision- "

"Because of _Ward!_ That bloody traitor did this! He caused _everything!"_ Jemma shook her head, seeming shocked by her outburst before she wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry. Um… you- you said you noticed things while watching _him_."

Skye sighed but accepted the slight change of topic. "Ward wakes up every day at the exact same time; his body just wakes him up. It's… weird. He either works-out or sits on his bed, staring at the wall. Sometimes I think he's talking, but… I don't know. He hardly eats the food given."

"If you're so _close _with him, ask him." The words were bitter, angry. "Now who's not thinking logically?"

Ignoring her, she tried to be truthful. "I don't want to know. Hearing his voice, it reminds me of what I lost."

Jemma stiffened, "Do- do you… _love _him?"

Skye looked away, unable to look into those piercing, betrayed-looking eyes. "I do. I- I _tried_ not to. I wanted to hate him, but… I couldn't let it go. None of it made sense and… I looked for the truth. I've found a lot, and one of those truths is that… I love him."

"The physical appeal is understandable," Jemma began quickly, rapidly, angrily. "His symmetrical face and well-muscled body indicate that the motility of his sperm is probably above-average, but… he's a _monster! _He's no protector of young! He's the bloody Ape in the tribe who's too aggressive and savage; he kills the entire tribe! Look what he's _done!_ Your ability to ignore evidence is… it's _appalling!"_

"I didn't choose this, Jemma," Skye said softly. "Do- do you think this is easy? That I _want_ it? That I want to feel this way? Why do you think I haven't told anyone? I knew this would be the reaction. And I haven't been ignoring evidence. I _know _exactly what Ward is capable of, and who he is. If anyone has been ignoring evidence, it's all of _you!"_ The resentment inside Skye boiled and it was hard to contain. She hated the position she was in, hated that she loved Ward, and hated that she was questioning everything. Because Jemma had left for months, Skye had had no one to turn to after she had killed Donnie Gill, so she had turned to Ward, which led her to her current position. It would be so much easier to hate Ward, but she couldn't; it wasn't possible with what she knew and had found out because love sucked. "Everything has been right in front of us, yet I'm the only one who's looked! None of you _care!_ You just want to throw Ward away like- like an insect and flush him down the toilet!"

Jemma's eyes were on fire, "He deserves nothing less; he'll know how it feels."

Skye swallowed, "I don't want you to hate me, but… I have to do this. I've tried not to, but it was killing me. I can't accept that he's a monster when I _know _he's not. Garret had Ward for _fifteen _years. I have to try to somehow… _help _him. I have to keep talking to him."

"I don't believe this," Jemma stumbled to her feet, distraught hysteria sunk into her face. "How can you do this?"

"Because I love him," she whispered. "Ward pisses me off like no one else, and when I talk to him, everything bursts out and I attack him. I'm still really angry and hurt and _raw_ by what he did, but… I can't call him a monster or lock him away for the rest of his life and not think about him. Black Widow got redemption, and other S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents I read about in the data dump were given second chances. S.H.I.E.L.D. even employed that Zola guy. Why not Ward?"

"You know exactly_ why!_ Ward's a bloody _snake!_ He- he's _manipulating_ you. Just like he fooled all of us before! We need to cut off the head of the snake before it coils in warning!"

Skye bowed her head, accepting the fact that she was alone in her beliefs; she nearly brought up Fitz's actions in Vault D, but bit her tongue. "We'll agree to disagree, Jemma."

"I can't believe this!" Jemma whirled around and stormed out of the room, fury tangible like smoke in the air.

Alone, she let the tears fall; she felt herself being pulled in opposite directions and right now, she was unsure if anything had ever been as painful. Wiping away her tears, Skye looked back at the live feed to Vault D. As per usual, Ward sat on his bed, staring at the wall.

Skye wondered if she was doing the right thing. Was the truth worth it? Was… trying to understand Ward worth it? What if Jemma was right? What if Ward was lying to her? But everything he had said made sense; it was a lot of authentic puzzle pieces being added to the blurry, jaded picture of understanding. Ward's reaction to his brother was telling; she had always been able to glimpse the raw, dark emotions in Ward when his family was brought up. His memories of his family consisted of things Skye couldn't imagine but was it enough for her to believe him? She absolutely believed him about his family and meeting Garrett when he was fifteen but was everything else the truth? He hadn't lied once to her; he had omitted the fact that her father was a monster, but… that wasn't lying. Of course, Ward knew how to skirt the issue of lying better than anyone she would ever meet, but he had been honest with her. He was telling her the truth, but not the full truth about her father. Skye wasn't confident enough to fully believe that it was to spare her, but… she was considering it. Ward hadn't lied about Fitz or May either, for she had found the evidence.

Was it enough to try to give him a second chance just because she had stupidly fallen in love with him? Despite her prior words to Jemma, she still wasn't certain. Depending on how she felt and how pissed she was feeling at Ward, her beliefs fluctuated. Skye still felt so hurt and angry by what he did. Knowing what she knew now about Ward's incredibly complicated relationship with Garrett, how Ward viewed him as a father for fifteen years, helped her logically in trying to sort out everything, but she was still so emotional about it. Ward claims to love her, but he betrayed her and caused Fitz's brain damage. If he loved her, wouldn't he have… stayed with her? With the team, damning Garrett? If he loved her, why didn't he come forward after she had been shot by Quinn on Garrett's orders and renounce him, revealing everything? If he loved her, he should have told Coulson everything even before she had been shot! He should have known that what he was doing was wrong! That Garrett was a monster!

Yet, Ward never knew Garrett was a monster; he still didn't know! He adamantly argued against her, using such illogical logic that Skye was unable to comprehend it. What if Ward had never known that what he was doing for Garrett was wrong? What if he… believed that he was doing the right thing? Ward had a conscience, right? He felt remorse and he admitted that everything he did wasn't worth it, but Skye wasn't sure if that was the result of Garrett dying regardless of Ward getting him the GH-325, or whether he regretted how they all hated him. Ward was shaped by the events of his past, just like everyone, and Skye personally understood that better than most, but she also wasn't sure if Ward's conscience could be considered humane after being raised in a terribly abusive environment as a child and then being conditioned by Garrett for fifteen years. It was actually a miracle that Ward wasn't a monster like Garrett; it was a miracle that he felt things, emotions.

When she had found the opportunity, she looked into his records at military school. There had been a Grant Douglas Ward enrolled for several brief months back in 1999 before his brief stay at juvie, but Grant Douglas Ward had, in the words of the man she had spoken to, absconded with a hot-wired truck and driven over 1,000 miles with the intent to murder his own brother. Based on what she knew about Ward, something had set him off. Something had happened to force him to drive over a thousand miles to try to murder his brother. He had reacted instinctively. It made her realize how incompetent S.H.I.E.L.D. had been; Skye had been able to find that information pretty quickly, but S.H.I.E.L.D. never did. Perhaps they never wanted to or even cared.

Everything lined up with what Ward had revealed and what she knew about him; he was telling the truth. If Garrett had hold of Ward for fifteen years, what hope could any of them have had of breaking through that in less than a year? It left Skye breathless, the realization of how intertwined Garrett and Ward were. It wasn't a monster joining Hydra because he believed in what the Nazis did; it was Ward following his father figure to the ends of the Earth to save him. It was like Coulson doing everything he could, killing two good men - which she would always feel guilty about - to try to save her life after Quinn had shot her. Of course, the memory of the bullets ripping through her, the sheer terror as the realization of death approaching while her life's blood streamed out of her, caused her hatred for Garrett to skyrocket.

The more she thought, the pressure behind her eyes began to build and just before she was certain her head was going to explode, Coulson suddenly walked in.

"D.C.," she said in surprise, quickly clearing her computer of evidence that would alert him that she was looking into Ward and watching him in Vault D. "You're _back!_ How was it? Did… the Senator back off?"

Coulson smiled and it was benign, but his face was inscrutable. "There's at least one Ward in the world who is amiable, honest, and polite. It went _much_ better than I expected. The Senator and I came to an agreement."

Skye frowned, "_Agreement?"_

"A trade. We give him Ward, and in return, the Senator will remove the bill and focus on Hydra. S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the Agents are safe."

The words entered her ears, but her brain refused to accept them for several moments; she had just enough awareness to keep from staggering and allowing her face to show her shock and horror.

"Are you sure that's… _wise?" _She asked carefully, trying to hide her unease. "I mean, he's a politician, D.C., and what about the abuse- "

"Skye, you're a good person and search for the best in people. Even in sons of bitches like Grant Ward." Coulson's voice didn't change or waver; his eyes held hers. "Everything Ward says is a lie; he's just like _Garrett._ I've seen it, and the fact that neither May or I noticed the blatant similarities, the way Ward is virtually a clone of Garrett, is a testament to how _dangerous_ Ward is. He's one of the most dangerous men in the world. Knowing that and seeing it are two different things, Skye. You've never seen him in action, in the field. Even when Lorelei influenced him. Not an unrestrained Grant Ward with nothing to lose and more importantly, no orders to follow."

"You believe his brother?" Skye tried to keep her tone calm, curious; she wasn't sure if she was successful. "The Senator?"

Coulson didn't even blink, "Yes. Unsurprisingly, Ward lied about everything because he's just like Garrett; we should have known. He was the one who killed his youngest brother by drowning him in the well; as a child, he would create substituting realities to manipulate people. It was a disturbing picture, for the Senator revealed other things about Ward's childhood. He was always a sociopath, just like Garrett, and when they caught him trying to burn the house down with the Senator inside, they sent him to military school. He stayed there for a number of years until he was put on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar and entered the Academy. He was a prodigy, breaking quite a few records. Garrett snatched the like-minded Ward and pulled him into Hydra."

Skye wondered if she should reveal everything that Ward had told her. Still, beyond the realization that she would be admitting that she had snuck into Vault D without permission, she realized that Coulson would never believe it because he, of all people, was compromised by Ward. He would never accept it - just like Jemma and everyone else. Ignoring how severely compromised she was about Ward, Skye thought hard and tried to quickly figure out what she wanted. Try as she might, she knew Ward wasn't a heartless monster; he was a very, very messed up, emotionally stunted, and dangerous man who felt things deeply. Not to mention, based on what she remembered, Ward was incapable of lying about something and creating a whole new reality about what happened at the well when he had that Asgardian staff.

Skye suddenly realized the lie that the Senator had fed Coulson; Ward had been put in juvie after the murder attempt and that's where Garrett found him. Not military school. Yet, even if she revealed the records about Ward being in juvie, the ones she had found, she knew that Coulson might ignore it, or just call it a coincidence, because… he held a bias against Ward. Everyone did, including Skye, but Coulson's wasn't based on Ward himself, but… rather Garrett; his feelings about Garrett tainted the way he has looked and will look at Ward. While Skye hated Garrett more than anyone, she was able to separate Ward from his father-figure, but Coulson seemed to project Garrett onto Ward and was unable to differentiate between them.

Whenever Skye had brought up Ward to Coulson, or even Garrett, when she was trying to understand, the two identities became blurred together, for Coulson always mentioned them together. It was always Ward and Garrett. Never just Ward. Never just Garrett.

Staring at Coulson, she responded. "I want him gone, D.C.," she stated venomously, trying to sound honest; it wasn't that hard, for she had been so consumed by rage toward Ward for so long that it was like slipping into an old jacket. She was acting impulsively, and she didn't know what she was going to do or even thinking, but she was reacting and trying to react convincingly. "I don't want to think about him anymore."

Coulson nodded sympathetically, "He'll be gone soon, and the Senator will deal with him." Skye tried not to shudder at how the Senator might deal with Ward. "But I need you to handle him one more time."

Skye stiffened, "What do you mean?"

"No matter how many guards and Agents I post for the transfer, Ward is still incredibly _dangerous._ Honestly, I'd only feel safe if Thor came to handle it, but that's not going to happen. I've given it much thought, and the only way I see the transfer happening peacefully, without fail and death, is if… you accompany him."

She didn't even have to fake her surprise. "_What?"_

Coulson looked grim, "Without you there, Ward will try to escape. He'll try something and good men will die. Ward's obsessed with you, and you know how to handle him. You've been doing an excellent job. If you're there, I believe it unlikely he will attempt anything."

Clearly, Coulson didn't understand how deep the hatred Ward felt for his brother went, but Skye nodded slowly. "I'll do it, sir. I'd do anything to see Ward out of here."

"Good. Do that, and you'll never have to see or hear about him again. You won't be alone in containing him. I'll have the best Agents not named May, Triplet, Hunter, or Morse on the transfer. Agents Triplet, Hunter, and Morse will be following at a distance just in case."

Skye tried to make a realistic small smile but feared that she failed; she found the thought of never seeing or hearing about Ward again was much more horrible than relieving.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Her mind blurred with thoughts as she tried to figure out what the hell she was doing, what she was going to do. Skye had no idea. It's not like she owed Ward anything, yet… her damn heart shriveled when she thought of Ward being handed over to his brother. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. She could still remember Ward's face when his brother was mentioned; he was afraid of the Senator. It seemed unthinkable, ridiculous, but she knew what she saw. It hadn't been a manipulation; those gorgeous eyes had been clouded with memories, terrifying amounts of fear, and blood-curdling rage.

She didn't want to be a person who sat by and did nothing while someone - regardless if she was in love with the person - was shipped back to their abuser as a child. Of course, she still had no idea what she was going to do, or if she would do anything. She didn't want to do nothing, but she feared that it might be out of her hands.

Skye found Fitz in the lab and she saw him swiveling something in his hands; she had no idea what. "What are you working on?"

Fitz looked over slowly and he licked his lips. "Um… it's the… the… I don't know."

"That's okay," she tried to smile, and stepped closer, sitting across from him; they were alone. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" Fitz peered at her, blinking rapidly. "Did- did I do something?"

"Yes, actually. I saw the video, Fitz," she stated softly, warily. "I… I saw what you did to Ward. You could have… _killed _him."

Fitz nodded, hands shaking. "Ye- _yes._ I- I went down there. Ward was… _happy_."

"What?" Skye frowned, taken aback. "You mean- "

"To- to see me." Fitz looked away, rocking himself slightly. "Ward was glad… I went down."

That lined up with what Ward had said; more truths he had told her. "Why did you drain the oxygen out of Vault D?"

"I was just… showing him how I… felt."

"I was scared," she whispered. "I… I thought that you were going to kill him."

Fitz jerked back as if burned, turning to her slowly, eyes wounded. "I- I wouldn't."

Skye nodded and felt some of her composure slip. "I know, I know, but… everyone's changing. I honestly don't know what anyone's willing to do. I thought I did, but I was wrong."

"Were you… scared for… Ward?" Fitz slowly grabbed her hand, staring at her as if she was a complicated puzzle. "Or me?"

She felt frozen, incapable of speech for several moments before she recovered. "Fitz, why would you- "

"Answer it. Please."

Skye swallowed, "Ward. I was scared for Ward. I thought you were going to kill him."

Fitz only blinked, "But- but you hate him."

"Not anymore," she corrected softly, looking to see if anyone was in the vicinity; they were still alone. "He's not a monster. Garrett was the monster."

"He- he did _this_ to me," Fitz jammed a stiff finger against his head. "I don't… understand."

"I know. I hate that I feel this way, but… it won't change."

Fitz's brows furrowed and he was quiet for several tense moments. "Why?"

Skye was unable to prevent the bitter laugh, "The heart sucks, Fitz. It's not logical, and I'm still _angry_ at Ward, but… I don't want him to be handed over to his brother."

"Ward's… brother? Th- _Thomas?"_

"No," she shook her head. "The other one. The older one."

Fitz didn't react but Skye noticed the subtle tightness of his hands. "The- the… ab- _abuser?"_

Skye nodded, "Yes. Coulson made a deal with Ward's older brother; he's a Senator. Ward's going to be transferred to his brother."

"I don't… understand," Fitz frowned and looked suddenly innocent. "Why would Coulson do that?"

"He did it to keep the Senator's bill from passing. It was going to target all Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"But Ward's brother… he um… _abused_ him."

"Coulson hates Ward," she whispered. "It makes sense. Everyone hates him."

Fitz looked at her, unsure. "You don't."

"No. I don't hate Ward. I can't. Not anymore."

"I don't know if… I hate Ward."

Skye's eyes widened, "_What?_ I mean, how? Ward caused your- "

"I know, I _know,_" Fitz looked agitated, fingers vibrating. "I thought that I could… do it. Ki- _kill_ him. Make him _know._ But- but I… I couldn't. I didn't… hate him enough."

"I understand," she said softly and squeezed his hand. "More than you know."

"Ward was… sad. He looked sad. It was in his- his eyes. When I… went down." Fitz suddenly inhaled shakily and his face wavered. "I… I… I _miss _him. He was my _friend_."

Skye's eyes shut to stop the tears and she sniffed, trying to keep her composure. "I know. I miss him, too. He was part of our family."

"But… _Garrett. _He and Ward."

"Ward loved Garrett; he was the father Ward never had."

Fitz shuddered, "_Garrett._ I- I hate him. I tried to… kill him. It was _easy._"

Skye leaned forward slightly, "When you attacked Garrett with the E.M.P., did Ward attack you and Simmons?"

"No. Ward didn't… touch us. He went to Garrett and then… ran away and came back with… with… something. He looked so- so _scared._ I didn't think Ward could feel… scared."

It was as she had thought; Ward hadn't attacked Fitz and Simmons. It was Garrett who had wanted Fitz and Simmons killed and ultimately, Ward failed.

"You always believed in him," she whispered, feeling her eyes well; she hastily wiped the tears away. "Even when the rest of us didn't, you did. And… look what he did to you."

Fitz nodded shakily, "Ward said he cared about us. But it was a… a weakness."

"Ward was never a robot," Skye looked at her hands. "He feels things, and he feels them more deeply than I had ever thought. The… only reason why any of us are still alive is- "

"Ward's weakness," Fitz said slowly, spacing the words. "Is… is he going to die? Ward?"

Skye felt her blood freeze but paradoxically, her heart rate increased. "I don't know," she said after several moments. "The Senator terrifies him. I've never seen him afraid, but… he's afraid of his brother."

"What are you going to do? Talk to… Coulson?"

"I don't think I can; his mind is set." Skye's breaths came faster, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Fitz fidgeted, "Talk to Ward. You… you should talk to him."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Vault D remained the same and Skye was certain that it and the prisoner therein was the only thing and person in S.H.I.E.L.D. that hadn't changed like everyone else had.

"Cameras are off," Ward pointed out, eyes considering. "Not just a loop. You really don't want anyone to know you're down here. Are you here to kill me?"

Skye ignored how casually he could talk about something like that. "I've been thinking a lot," she stared at him hard, chin up. "I also have to tell you something."

"What?"

"Coulson's handing you over to his brother," she rushed out quickly, afraid she wouldn't be able to get the words out otherwise.

Ward stared at her uncomprehendingly for several explosive moments before his eyes burst from their sockets, horror and terror seeped into his skin before it all abruptly vanished, replaced by remarkable coldness; it was somehow worse than May on a terrible day. Skye was stunned into silence.

He began to pace, face blank, but beneath it, she could feel the rage and fear. "So, Coulson talked to Christian?" Ward laughed suddenly and there was nothing amusing in the air; it was dark and bitter, terrifying. "Coulson's a fool. I told him. I told _you_ not to believe a fucking word that comes out of his mouth."

Skye raised her hands, feeling like she was keeping a beast at bay. "I don't believe your brother. He's just like all politicians: An amazing liar. I know what he did to you, how he killed… Thomas, and I believe that."

Ward sagged in relief, "_Good._ I never lied about Christian. If anything, I undersold him."

"Being convinced that your brother is Satan is not underselling him," she pointed out. Just how much did Ward hate and fear his brother? Apparently, there were no limits. "It tells me everything I need to know."

"But not Coulson," Ward looked to his right, staring intently and Skye blinked, unsure what he was doing. "Coulson's giving me to… Christian to stop the bill, right?"

"Yes."

"When's the transfer?"

"I don't know, but… soon."

"I'm going to escape," Ward suddenly declared. "You know that, don't you? I'm not going to Christian. Not as a prisoner. Not when I'm _weak._"

"_That's_ why I've been thinking. You just told me you were planning an escape- "

"Every time we talk, I say more than I want or should. I'm the best, but… you weaken me. Compromise me."

"I'm sorry you hate that," she muttered, feeling vulnerable.

"I don't," Ward stared at her and for whatever reason, she believed him. "I don't hate it. I have to adjust to it, but I'll adjust. Don't worry. I always do."

"Well, prove to me that I can trust you. Tell me what you know. Answer my questions honestly. I want to believe you, Ward. Tell me everything, and I'll try to talk Coulson down." Skye leaned forward passionately, "You've never been given a choice. I- I've realized that."

"What are you talking about?" Ward tilted his head, "Is this about Donnie Gill's brainwashing? I wasn't like that. I'm immune to the Faustus Method. I was never brainwashed, Skye. Everything I did was of my free will. I made those decisions. It was all me"

Skye nodded slowly, "You think that you always had a choice in everything you did, but… I'm not sure, Ward."

Ward tensed slightly, "What are you saying?"

Recognizing how poor of a time it was to bring up Garrett's actions to him, she deflected. "The point is, you have a choice now. You choose the outcome here, Ward, whether I believe you and try to help you, or if I don't believe you and… let Coulson hand you over… to your brother." Skye ran a hand through her hair, trying to make him see that this was it. "I'm the only one, Ward. I'm the only one who believes you. About anything. Coulson and May think- "

"I'm well aware of what Coulson and May believe."

"How about Fitz and Simmons?"

Ward sighed, "I'd imagine they believe I'm a monster."

"Simmons certainly does but… I don't think Fitz feels that way."

"It was supposed to float," Ward sounded so tired and he glanced to his right. Why did he keep doing that? "The med pod. John wanted them dead and… I'm relieved that I hesitated when I saw them. It gave them time to lock themselves in there."

"I don't want to talk about that," she shook her head. "Tell me about my father. Do you know him?"

"I know _of _him, Skye."

She felt the urge to quip that all monsters knew of each other, but that was only a defense mechanism to separate her from reality. "Tell me."

"His reputation is… blood-soaked. Then again, isn't everyone's in Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Ward sighed and she feared what he was about to say. "You think he's a monster, but… if you ever want to understand anything, especially people, you have to substitute your thoughts and instincts for their own. Your father, I don't know what he is, but he lost something precious."

Skye swallowed, "Me. He lost me."

"And your mother."

"My mother?" Skye's breathing came faster, and she grasped at her control, "She's dead?"

"All I know is that your father went crazy because he lost his family: His wife and daughter. His reaction indicates his intense love for your mother; it's an incredible overcompensation." Ward stared at her, eyes sad but honest. "Hydra took her from him and then S.H.I.E.L.D. took you. He sees no sides, only the enemy. Your mother must have been so much more than a lover; she was your father's anchor, and he loved her - and later you - more than anything."

"That doesn't make it _okay!"_

"Clearly, Skye, your father wasn't a 'monster' before that; circumstances changed him. The murder of your mother and your disappearance caused him to go insane- "

"And all he's done since is kill," she muttered, wrapping her arms around her chest.

"Because of his furious grief. His reaction, everything he's done, it's understandable."

Skye's lips parted and she shook her head. "_How?_ How is that understandable? Why?"

Ward stared at her, "Because I'd do the same."

Why did she inspire such devotion from dangerous men? She squeezed her eyes shut, "Why did Hydra take my mother?"

"I don't know the truth about that, but I have suspicions."

"What's your theory, Ward?"

"Hydra has been experimenting on gifteds for decades. I believe your mother might have been one of them." Skye's breathing froze and thankfully, he continued to speak. "Otherwise, she wouldn't matter to Hydra. Maybe they were after your father, trying to figure out what he is, and they used your mother to get to him, but that's it. Hydra would never care about a normal woman; they would only care about your father and you, Skye. Either your mother was… bait to lure your father into a trap, or she was a gifted captured and given to, most likely, Whitehall."

"_Whitehall?"_ Skye swallowed and looked around at nothing, brain incapable of processing images. "The same Whitehall- "

"Who you've been after now, yes. That's what I suspect, Skye." Ward caught her gaze, "Your father loves yo- "

"_Stop,_" she bit her lip, shaking her head. "I- I can't deal with that. Not right now."

"What do you want to deal with?"

Skye regained her breathing, "You. Answer me honestly, Ward," she stared at him critically. "Are you afraid of your brother?"

"Why would you ask that?" Ward asked in boredom, but the tension in his jaw alerted her to his true feelings. "What reason?"

"_No._ You're… what's it called?" Skye leaned forward, "You're… _deflecting!_ No deflecting, Ward."

"My hatred is much greater than my fear."

She supposed that was one way of answering that question; she moved to another. "Were you afraid of Garrett? _Ever?"_

"At first, I was," he responded after several tense seconds; he turned his gaze to the right again. "One second I was in juvie, the next I'm out with a man I had only known for two minutes."

"Where did you go? Where were you?" Skye knew she failed to keep her incredible curiosity at bay, her endless need to know, to understand. "What happened between those five years? I never found anything."

"You wouldn't," Ward said it with confidence; he smiled, and she was taken aback at the wistfulness in it. "John took me out of juvie and dropped me off in Wyoming. In the middle of nowhere with nothing but Buddy and a backpack. The woods were beautiful there."

Skye blinked, "_What?_ Are- are you saying that… Garrett… _abandoned_ you in the woods in the middle of Wyoming?"

"It was a test," he sounded completely calm, as if what Garrett had done to him was normal. But in his experience, it was normal. Skye was unable to contain her horror and profound shock, but Ward continued talking. "John said he would be back in two months, but he wasn't. I didn't see him for another six months, and I never thought he was going to come back." Skye listened with a horrified silence, incapable of speech to respond to what she was hearing, but she was mesmerized at learning the truth about the relationship between Ward and Garrett. "When he did come back, I almost blew his head off, but he was so proud. Then he began training me, teaching me everything. A month or two later, John brought a man for me to kill, and I already told you about that."

"Who's Buddy?" She croaked out, unable to ask anything else; she couldn't even wrap her thoughts around what Ward was telling her.

Something flashed in Ward's eyes, but it was gone so quickly, she wasn't sure if she had imagined it or not. "Buddy was my dog. Besides John, he was all I had."

"Th- this was… for _five years?"_

"Yes."

"Garrett… he was your only… human contact for… _five years?"_

Ward tilted his head, "Yes, but there were rare events in which John would invite me to places. More tests. Although those were… educating and fun."

Probably some Hydra event, she was certain; she didn't want to know, not right now. "You… lived in the woods?"

"You don't know the peace of the woods, Skye." Ward's eyes shut gently, and it contrasted the deep violence that she knew he was capable of. "It's second only to your presence. Those woods… they were my home for five years. I built the cabin and did everything there. All my firsts happened in those woods."

Skye felt sick and she wasn't sure the feeling would ever leave her; it was worse than she had imagined! She had secretly thought that Ward had been taken to a Hydra facility or something and indoctrinated, but… not to the woods for five years in which his only human contact was Garrett. No wonder his people skills, while usually so refined and seemingly perfect, sometimes seemed so weird and alien. It was a miracle that Ward could even talk to people. If his only contact was Garrett, how did he last five years with only that monster for company? Skye would have gone insane, and when she thought about her experiences at those ages, she realized how different Ward's life had been. When she was that age, she had been partying and doing everything to piss off all the elders, but Ward had been surviving, was being groomed by Garrett as the ultimate soldier and warrior. While their upbringings were similar, they were also vastly different in ways she couldn't imagine.

"How- how… often were you… alone?" She asked softly, "Without Garrett."

"After the initial six months, John visited for a week every month. Sometimes it was two weeks every month. Sometimes it was every other month. Sometimes he was with me for a full month. There was never… a schedule. John would show up and I had to show him everything I did, had learned. He taught me how to survive, things I would need to know, to accomplish, made me read about war and tactics, and made me a man."

Her sudden engulfing rage at S.H.I.E.L.D. took her by surprise, but she couldn't help it. Just how… incompetent had S.H.I.E.L.D. been? She couldn't even fathom it, and that pissed her off even further! If anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. had cared enough to look, they could have definitely found what Garrett was doing, that Hydra still existed and was feasting on S.H.I.E.L.D. itself!

Skye couldn't listen to anything more; her brain felt fried, overloaded with such complex information it would take her weeks to sift through. She tried to stand straight but her exhaustion disallowed that. "I believe you, Ward. I've researched what I could and things are adding up. Everything you've said, it makes sense. You- you're not a monster. I think I understand how… this all happened."

"I'm glad."

"Don't think I _forgive_ you," she bit out. "I'm not there yet. I'm still pissed off, but… to hand you over to your brother is… it's not right. It's _wrong_, and I don't want to be a person who can stand by and watch that happen. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll try to get Coulson to change his mind."

Ward stared at her, silent for several moments before he nodded. "Do you know all the ways someone gives themselves away when they're lying? It's clear as day. They always give something away, and I always notice. I learned when I was a child and I've only gotten _better._ I've always known each lie you've said, whether to me or someone else. I even know when Coulson's lying, although he's good."

Skye fidgeted, "What are you trying to say?"

"You're not lying now. I believe you."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****Skye and Ward talk about his brother, but emotions boil, leading to Coulson intervening. Ward's had enough, his fear of Christian tormenting him, and verbally attacks Coulson, all control leaving him. It also doesn't help at all that Ward knows that Coulson was the one who killed Garrett, and he would definitely hate Coulson because of that. Coulson was shown to never want to hear Ward's side of the story; his mind was made up, and Ward knows how to get to Coulson, so Coulson loses his cool. **

****Coulson meets with Senator Ward, and I went more in detail about the Senator's lie to Coulson, which whether or not Coulson believed it in Canon, he still decided to ship Ward back to his childhood abuser. In this, he does believe the Senator because he's blinded by his hatred for Ward - which lines up with his actions in Canon because he was always blinded by emotion in regard to Ward. **

****Simmons confronts Skye. While Skye tries to explain everything and what she's learned, Simmons isn't having it, leading to her storming off. Then when Coulson returns, he tells Skye about the transfer and Skye realizes that she doesn't want Ward given over to his brother, but she doesn't know what to do about it, if she should do anything.**

****Skye and Fitz talk. Out of anyone besides Skye, Fitz would be the one who might not hate Ward - as in wanting him dead. It's ironic because the two people hurt most by Ward are probably the only ones who could potentially 'forgive' him. At least that's my interpretation.**

****Skye confronts Ward alone again in a last-chance opportunity for him to prove himself. He succeeds and tells her about her parents, what he knows and suspects. Skye also wants to know more about his years 'off the grid' and Ward tells her some of his time in Wyoming. Honestly, Skye's sudden rage at S.H.I.E.L.D. is justified because it couldn't have been too hard to figure out what Garrett was doing. Vanishing for weeks or even months at a time would raise questions. I don't even know how he was able to do that without Fury knowing about it, or breathing down his neck. Maybe Pierce pulled some strings. Who knows?**

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was unsurprising to have reached this point. Since Grant had learned of the transfer, he inherently knew nothing would change, and hadn't had the heart to tell Skye that it was pointless to try to persuade Coulson to change his mind. So when a heavily-armed group of Agents led by May had come down to his cell, he had only felt amusement and anticipation. And the feelings of excitement had only grown as time passed.

He was forced to stop walking and the bag was suddenly ripped off his head and Grant squinted harshly against the light but he adjusted remarkably quickly - as he always did. Coulson stood before him, stone-faced, and surrounding him, a legion of guards stood ready with military-grade weapons. They were in an abandoned parking garage and three armored vehicles were waiting to the side and near Coulson, an SUV was running, smoke puffing into the air.

"_They went all-out, didn't they?"_ John asked rhetorically, _"Unsurprising since it's you, but this should be a piece of cake. Cut through everyone in your way and escape, son. Don't disappoint me. You can only rely on yourself. Only you will get you out of this mess. Don't fuck it up."_

Already understanding the plan by having the three armored vehicles, trying to throw Hydra off in case they tried to 'rescue' him, Grant chuckled, watching as Coulson's face twitched just as he knew it would. "I'm touched you went to such lengths."

"I know you, Ward. I know what you can do."

"You really don't," he corrected with a lazy shake of his head, eyes scanning every Agent and soldier.

"_He really doesn't, does he?"_ John laughed and the sound stroked his ego, _"Oh, he'll learn after this, won't he, son?"_

"You don't know anything, Coulson. Otherwise, my _brother_ wouldn't be playing you like he does everyone. You really have gone insane, haven't you?"

"The Senator told me the truth, unlike you; he told me what happened at the well. You _murdered_ Thomas Ward, your brother." Grant remained still, but the words pierced at his brain and the rage was so potent that he feared he would explode; he felt the phantom grip of the damned Asgardian Berserker Staff in his hands, and it fueled his hatred towards both Christian and Coulson. "You were always a monster, even as a child. I should have seen it. You and Garrett are identical."

"I'm the best, Coulson," he forced his features into an arrogant smirk. "You didn't see anything I didn't want you to."

"Skye?"

Grant was prepared; he knew she would be brought into the conversation one way or another. "I was trying to lure her to John's side; her skills would have been useful. John even liked her."

"_I did."_ John chuckled heartily, _"I just hated how she turned you into a quivering mess. That weakness of yours- "_

"Garrett liked her enough to order her death!" Coulson snapped angrily before his control returned. "You failed, Ward, and your failures end here. Your fate rests with the Senator."

He felt his eyes flash, "Does _it?_ You're more naive than I thought. John was right about you; he was always right."

Coulson stiffened and his eyes narrowed before a bland, inscrutable expression crossed his face. "To ensure your delivery to the Senator, someone will be accompanying you."

"_Oh, this will be good,"_ John murmured in excitement. _"Ice-cold May will finally be put down like the bitch she is."_

The sound of Coulson's fingers snapping echoed in the air and one of the car doors from the SUV opened. Grant turned his gaze to it, prepared to see May, but his breathing froze when Skye - _Skye!_ \- stepped out, wariness on her beautiful face.

John scoffed, _"Phil's really lost his touch, hasn't he? Then again, this girl might weaken you enough to cause your escape to fail. Wouldn't surprise me. Don't let her get to you, son. While you're killing everyone else, kill her, too. Then find her father and tell her S.H.I.E.L.D. did it. Your plan can still work without her."_

Grant continued to stare at Skye, stunned, and when he finally regained control, he knew his reaction was well-observed by Coulson; he inwardly cursed, immediately understanding the game. While he would normally not want to try anything with Skye around, Coulson underestimated how much he hated Christian.

He smirked arrogantly, "A pretty face is always nice to see."

"It will be the last time you ever see it, Ward," Skye snarled and he wished that didn't hurt even though it was a clear overcompensation, but it did - a lot. How had Skye convinced Coulson to allow her to accompany the transfer? Whatever she did, he loved her all the more for it. Although, he would have enjoyed it to be May; it would have made killing her sweeter. "I'm making sure you don't try anything."

Grant gestured to the numerous guards and agents. "We won't be alone. Are you comfortable with people watching? I never thought you to be an exhibitionist, Skye."

Coulson's face spasmed, "Get him out of here!"

Rough hands yanked him forward toward the back of one of the armored vehicles and Grant turned to look at Coulson. "You'll regret this, _Director._ I keep my promises. You'll watch it happen."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye watched silently as Ward was shoved into the back of the armored vehicle and turned to Coulson when he grabbed her shoulder. She had been unable to talk him out of sending Ward to the Senator, and she was still shaken by the resolve in Coulson's eyes when he told her that Ward deserved nothing less.

His words were solemn, "They know what to expect, but Skye, you _cannot_ give Ward an inch. He can do more with an inch than you can imagine."

"Don't worry, D.C.," she tried to hide her utter anxiety. "I'll keep an eye on him. I don't think that he'll try anything. Did you see his face? When he saw me?" Skye did, and she had seen the astonishment fade away until pleasure replaced it, but it had been brief before arrogance overwhelmed both. "I think that's evidence enough."

Coulson nodded vacantly, "If he does anything, shoot him. At this point, it doesn't matter if it's through his black heart. Send him to meet Garrett in Hell. The Senator would understand."

Skye did all she could to prevent the tremors from ripping through her body; she didn't want Ward dead! "I'll do what I have to, D.C. because this is the last time I'll see Ward if I can help it."

"Good. Provide an update when the transfer is complete. Remember, Agents Triplett, Morse, and Hunter, and another group of Agents will be following in the distance in case anything happens. You have nothing to be worried about." Coulson smiled and it was soft, gentle, "Be safe, Skye. While I'm confident Ward won't try anything, be prepared to face a monster. I have faith in you. We all do."

She nodded and tried to smile, "Will do, D.C.," she saluted and didn't know if it was to soothe him or herself.

Skye turned around and kept her stride steady and confident. What had Ward once told her on the Bus? It was something about how people will believe what they see more than they believe any words, and a big part of a perfect performance was how one acted and looked. When she reached the armored vehicle, she met the gaze of the five heavily-armed and dangerous-looking Agents, while not meeting Ward's, afraid of what her face might express.

The spot next to Ward was vacant and Skye hesitantly lowered herself on the stiff platform. The doors immediately slammed shut and all was silent as the engine roared to life and then they were moving.

"This was quite the development," Ward's drawl reached her ears and his eyes suddenly caught her; his head was turned painfully towards her but he didn't seem to notice. "Not even I could have guessed this. I'm _impressed_."

What was he doing? Weren't his words going to cause the other Agents to feel suspicious? But apparently, they didn't because the other men were too busy glaring hatefully at Ward.

Skye licked her dry lips, trying to keep her breathing calm; she had only a flicker of a full idea worked out as to how she would be able to keep Ward away from his brother while trying not to betray Coulson. "The Director asked for me to accompany you," she said stiffly and Ward raised a brow, curious. "I gladly accepted."

"I'm sure you did," he winked and Skye had no idea what was going on.

"You won't be so confident when the transfer is over, Ward," one of the men snarked, hands gripping his weapon tightly. "There are rumors about you and your bro- "

Ward's perceived jest and playfulness abruptly vanished, replaced by overwhelming, tangible fury. "If you value your tongue, you won't express the rest of that thought."

Well, at least his infamous ability to make friends had never been a lie.

"Fuck off! We know about you, what you're capable of, but you don't know how good we are. You're not too bright. _We_ survived Hydra's uprising and killed many of those bastards. It's why the Director chose us."

"Chose you?" Ward echoed casually, "I'd wager he didn't even have to ask nicely, right? Morons like you love to fight."

"The only moron here is you. You betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., and murdered- "

"Now you're trying too hard," the interruption was in boredom and Skye stared at Ward, stunned. "Trying to find a moral superiority when there is none. You're all like me: We kill, we spy, and we lie. Think about it logically and reasonably."

"_Preposterous!"_

"You know, that's not a word you should use. Now you're _really_ trying too hard. You can't pull it off; you're imitating other people - probably your S.O. who, let me guess, was killed during the Hydra Uprising."

"How _dare_ you?" The man's face was red and Skye knew that Ward was somehow right. How did he know? "You're nothing- "

Ward laughed, interrupting the man once again. "_Really?_ That's what you're going with: The 'How dare you' bit? It doesn't work. Not for you. What are you, a Princess? Is _this_ the best Coulson could do? I'm disappointed."

The man straightened, gripping his weapon tightly. "You won't be disappointed for long. Thanks to us, no one else of S.H.I.E.L.D. will ever be hurt by you or your actions again."

An amused hum vibrated in Ward's chest and Skye turned to see a small smirk dance across his lips. "They're here to kill me."

Skye blinked, "_What?"_ Her head swiveled to look at the silent Agents. "What is he talking about?"

"The truth, Agent Skye," the middle man reached across and suddenly smashed the butt of his rifle against Ward's skull.

Ward's head snapped sickeningly to the side and Skye gasped but before she could react, an I.C.E.R. was pointed at her. Darkness exploded in her vision as it fired and her vision dimmed, body slackening, and the last thing she saw was Ward staring at her, gorgeous eyes bursting with shock and hatred.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Agent Skye's the Director's favorite; she wouldn't have allowed this," the man's words reached his ears but Grant couldn't look away from Skye; her eyes were closed and lips parted but thankfully, there were no injuries. "These I.C.E.R.s are handy."

"_You know why they're there, son."_ John sighed dramatically, "_They're envious of that handsome face of yours. Why don't you just break the ice? You've always been good at that. The girl doesn't give a duck's fuck about you anyway. Forget about her!"_

"You really hate Hydra, don't you?" Grant said dryly, ignoring the blood streaming down the side of his head; he turned away from the unconscious Skye, vowing retribution. "You also want to die, too."

"We're going to kill you, traitor, and since it's sound-proof in here, we'll be able to blame it on you trying to escape," the man's face was puckered with rage; the other men were triumphant, secure in their victory.

"_I can't wait until they realize they're yanking at the lion's mane!"_ John hooted, a giant grin on his face. _"Tear 'em to bits with your claws!"_

"Depending on Agent Skye's reaction when she wakes up, her death may be on your hands. Do you know how many friends we lost to evil fucks like you?"

"That's a new description," he smirked, tilting his head. "Well, I'd imagine quite a few. S.H.I.E.L.D. was decimated when Hydra left the shadows."

John laughed boisterously and Grant felt emboldened, _"These morons are amateurs. Show 'em what it means to play with fire."_

"You're about to permanently enter the realm of shadows, Ward, where you evil fucks should have stayed! We've waited a long time to do this. The Director kept you alive, but no more."

"At least you can think independently. Normally, S.H.I.E.L.D. only breeds Avatars of their foolishness, their pathetic, hypocritical ideals. It's refreshing to see morons like you take initiative." Grant felt the rage inside him begin to build, "Initially, I was going to keep you alive. Skye wouldn't have approved of your deaths, and I'm tired of disappointing her, but for this, I'll make an _exception_. You shouldn't have touched her."

"What are you going to do about it, Ward? You can do nothing except embrace your death. It's long-deserved."

"That's a tall order," Grant felt a genuine smile slip across his lips; it had been so long since a fight. He didn't realize how much he had missed it. "The only deaths that are long-deserved are yours after you forced Skye unconscious. I've been very generous allowing you extra seconds of life. That generosity ends here. I compared you to a Princess earlier, but I should've said King because your end will be the same as Charles I's."

The men immediately readied their assault rifles and Grant's vision tunneled and he was swept away by the feeling of adrenaline. It had been so long since adrenaline had surged through his body, since before his incarceration in Vault D, but… this time, there was something different, more primal. A pure strength beyond anything that he had ever experienced flooded his limbs, bones, and muscles like pure napalm. Forgotten channels in his nerves and vessels sprung to life and his stunned eyes suddenly locked onto the scars above his wrists as they suddenly faded before disappearing as if they were never there; his senses abruptly heightened to levels he thought impossible, but his brain adapted flawlessly. It felt like being welcomed home after a long journey after being away too long. Grant had no idea what was happening but he recognized it as the opportunity.

"_Now!"_ John shouted, _"Kill them!"_

In one smooth motion, he broke his wrist and slipped out of the restraints; his hand immediately lashed out and the fist smashed into the man who was sitting next to him and cheekbones caved-in. Not stopping as the man collapsed to the floor, hitting his still-restrained legs, he grabbed the barrel of the nearest assault rifle and yanked. The strange strength pumping through his body allowed new openings of attack, for the man was heaved forward, and slammed into Grant. The other men immediately opened fire and using the man as a shield, he was safe; he quickly reset his wrist.

"What the fuck?" One of the men screamed, "Die, you Hydra _scum!"_

Grant grit his teeth when a bullet snuck through and pierced his side, but he ignored it; he felt it, but there was no pain, not yet. He flung the human shield forward and at the same time, he leaped forward - and he recognized that his legs sprung out of the restraints from pure strength but he was unable to analyze it - and with his newly-freed legs, he viciously drove his knee into the chest of one of the men. The man's breath hitched and he stiffened and Grant dimly realized that he had crushed the man's sternum.

"No!" One of the men threw the other man off and adjusted their weapon. Grant was ready and his fist surged forward, smashing into the armor-covered kidney, but with this strange strength, as the prior man had indicated, the armor didn't matter. The man crumbled to the ground with an exploding gasp, spittle floating in the air like a mist. As the man fell, Grant grabbed hold of the assault rifle and turned it around; he opened fire and the other men were dead.

And then there was one.

"Did Coulson authorize this?" Grant asked casually to the man into whom his knee was jammed as he ripped the helmet off of him; it was a robust face, colored with rage. "Or was it the work of overzealous morons?"

"I'm not telling you _shit!"_ The man croaked out angrily, and Grant caught the wrist holding a knife aimed for his leg. "You'll have to kill me."

"Gladly," he said flatly and pulled the concealed pistol out of the man's holster and blew the robust face apart; blood sprayed into his beard and he half-heartedly wiped it away.

"_That was fun,"_ John beamed and Grant glanced at him, relieved to see the pride in his eyes. _"Phil should've known better."_

"You think it was him?"

"_Don't you? You got to inscrutable Phil, son; he wants you dead. I bet this was him."_

"Maybe," he murmured and kneeled beside Skye; she was untouched from the carnage and dead bodies and he was thankful; he knew he needed to act, but he found he couldn't look away from Skye's beautiful, peaceful face. It had been so long since he had been allowed to openly stare at her, and just this once, he indulged himself.

It was a reward.

"_Now's your chance."_ John hissed enticingly, rubbing his hands together._ "Cut this weakness out of your life, son. Redeem yourself. You couldn't kill that damn dog, put down the science geeks, or butcher ice-cold May as you should have, but you can destroy your greatest weakness. Do it now. Get rid of this duck-fucking girl!"_

Grant stood to his feet and moved away from Skye, staring at John. "If you think she should die, do it yourself."

John's face flashed, _"I can't! Because of your failure to save me!"_

"Exactly," the words hurt to say but he didn't hesitate. "I'm the one alive, and I choose what to do. I want Skye. There's no one else."

"_You damn tender-hearted Choir Boy!"_ John snarled and stomped towards him, but he didn't move. _"I wasted fifteen years of my life on a worthless, lovestruck, leeching pussy!"_

"I'm sorry, John," he whispered, all feelings of triumph vanishing. "But this is how it will be. Skye stays. You can't change that."

Before John could retort in a fury, Grant gathered all the explosives from the dead Agents; he stacked them on the bench.

"_You're gonna blow this bitch sky-high?"_ John chuckled warmly, encouragingly; it was a sudden, stark contrast. "_Great minds think alike, son."_

"Not Skye, the truck. Whether Coulson did this or not, I'm taking Skye with me," he pulled her into his arms but before he could move further, he felt the vehicle slowing down.

"_Traffic light?"_

"I think so," he nodded and knew this would be a good chance. Based on which armored vehicle he had been put in, and their immediate take-off from the abandoned parking garage, he was in the middle armored vehicle.

Grant grabbed one of the grenades and pulled the pin out; he dropped it at the sealed door and leaped towards the barrier keeping the driver from the trunk. He curled inward and made sure Skye was held in his arms, away from potential danger.

"_Playin' with fire. I like it- "_

The explosion was so loud and Grant felt the heat but it didn't affect him; what did affect him was the noise, his heightened senses malfunctioning and he almost blacked out, ears ringing, but he recovered after several moments, shaking his head to clear it. Then he was on his feet and Skye was slung over his shoulder; he grabbed another grenade and pulled out the pin, dropping it by the other explosives. Then he dashed out of the armored vehicle, landing on the pavement. Immediately in front of him, the third armored vehicle was running, and the driver and Agent in the front stared at him, slack-jawed, horror in their eyes.

He pulled out the pistol he had procured from one of the dead Agents and fired twice; the bullets shot through the windshield and both men's heads exploded, blood spraying the air.

"_Atta boy!"_

Grant then ran down the street, one hand holding the unconscious Skye on his shoulder, and passed confused pedestrians, but then the armored vehicle exploded; he didn't look behind him but the abrupt terrifying shrieks alerted him that he would escape. Pandemonium had broken out on the street, hysteria tangible in the smoky air. Men and women screamed, parents threw themselves over their children, and others suddenly joined him in his sprint away from the armored vehicles at the traffic light; he was noticeably much faster than he remembered, but he didn't let that knowledge keep him from the task.

It was the perfect cover.

Cars blazed down the street, engines gunning, drivers fearful, and Grant saw his chance; he jumped in front of a gray sedan and it screeched to a halt.

"_Yo!"_ The man opened the door, peeking his head out; his eyes were wide, terrified. "What the _fuck?_ What's wrong with you? I gotta get out of _here!_ Didn't you see the- " he choked on a gasp as Grant leveled the pistol at him.

"I need this car more than you," he smiled coldly; he noticed the ball cap by the dash. "Get out. Give me your wallet and phone. And your jacket."

The man shook but he stumbled out of the car, "You- you can't… This is my _car,_ man! I need my- "

"Give me everything I want, or I'm going to blow your head off," he tightened his grip on the gun and the man quivered. Grant slid Skye into the passenger side of the car, thankful that the chaos of the explosion kept eyes from observing what he was doing; he walked to the driver's side and took the offered phone, jacket, and wallet before sliding in. "What's your phone's password?"

"It don't have a pass- "

"Fuck you," Grant fired a warning shot between the man's legs; the concrete exploded into pieces, the sound ear-shattering. "What's the password?"

The man jumped and fell back, nearly managing to avoid another driving car. "Fi- _fine. _It- it's 3-7-4-5-1-2."

Grant opened the phone, and inputted the numbers; it unlocked. He didn't say another word as he slammed the door shut and blazed down the street, ignoring the sound of the man screaming in rage. Swerving out of the way of other vehicles, he gunned it; it was a race against time. The authorities would soon arrive and halt traffic in the city; he had to get out! And he didn't even know where he was!

When he finally managed to make it out of the city, he finally felt himself relax as he slipped the jacket on; it was tight but would suffice. Thankfully, the day was ending and it would provide more cover, and he would keep driving through the night, only stopping for gas. The man's - Shawn - wallet had just over two hundred dollars in cash, so it would last for a bit. Grant began to decompress and allow the memories of his escape to flood his mind.

"The adrenaline," he whispered to the unconscious Skye as he continued driving. "I don't know what the hell happened, but it was the adrenaline. The adrenaline did it. It… it _unlocked_ something inside me. That's what it was."

"_You sly son of a bitch,"_ John snarked and he sounded furious. _"I always knew you had skill, son, the best I've ever seen, but this blows my previous assessments out of the water. You managed to keep your, what would you call it, regeneration from me for fifteen years? If I didn't feel so pissed, I'd be impressed."_

Grant's lips parted before he shook his head. "I didn't know, John! Didn't you hear what I just said to Skye? I don't know what the hell just happened!" He suddenly remembered his gunshot wound and keeping his eyes on the road, his fingers reached under his shirt to probe the area; he felt nothing but smooth skin. There was no wound or bullet; he knew there had been a wound, for he felt the still-wet blood soaked into the fabric of his shirt. "What the hell is going on? Did S.H.I.E.L.D. inject me with something?"

"_I doubt they spiked your meals."_

"I hardly ever ate the meals, remember?" His mind worked furiously, "They were usually poisoned. This… it makes no sense. You didn't want me near the Centipede Project."

"_You think you're suddenly a Super-Soldier?" _John scoffed, _"It was adrenaline. Nothing more. Adrenaline is the greatest survival tool. It's how I duct-taped myself shut and crawled out of Sarajevo."_

Grant shook his head, "This was different, and you know it. Right now, I feel better than I've ever felt. I feel stronger and all my scars are gone_._ I don't feel tired at all even though I should after being imprisoned in that fucking cell for half a year. What's that thing you once said? I feel so buzzed, I could pop someone."

"_Don't look at me, son. If I knew of this, I would have taken all your blood for myself."_

Before he could respond, his hearing noticed that Skye's breathing changed; he glanced at her and saw the clear signs of waking from slumber. He was quiet for several moments and to his amazement, he could hear her heartbeat begin to increase.

"Rise and shine, honey," he called out dryly, prepared for every possible reaction. "I think you drooled."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye could feel her body sitting upright as awareness swept through her; something flat pressed to the side of her head. The familiar voice of Ward reached her, and her eyes shot open and she groaned, slowly peeling her head away from the window. The sun was dimming and jaded darkness was beginning to overtake the light. She slowly turned to her left and Ward sat there, driving the car; they were alone.

"Ward?"

"The one and only."

"What- what's going on?" She blinked rapidly, "Where are- the _transfer!_ What happened?" She was alone with Ward. In a car with no one around. "What did you do?" The hysteria drowned her mind and she felt trapped. "Ward, what did you _do?"_

"All I did was react," Ward stated calmly and when he glanced at her, she noticed he was wearing a ballcap and a jacket that looked tight. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Skye froze as the memories surged forward and she remembered; the other Agents taunting Ward and his declaration that they were going to kill him. Then all hell broke loose and the last thing she remembered was the appearance of the I.C.E.R.

"I was shot," she whispered. "They… _shot_ me."

"They said you'd get in the way. Wouldn't allow it." Ward sounded casual, "Didn't help them. It probably made it easier, actually."

"Where are- we're in a car," she pointed out dumbly. "Whose car is this?"

"Some guy named Shawn's," he responded and tossed her something; she instinctively caught it and stared at the wallet. "He was quite the Good Samaritan; he gave me his wallet, phone, jacket, and car."

Skye didn't want to know if that was true, or Ward had stolen them; she focused on something else. "They tried to kill you."

"And they died trying."

"You killed them," she whispered, but could she blame him?

"They were asking for it, Skye," Ward glanced at her again and she could barely see his gorgeous eyes; it was getting darker. "You can't blame me. I was defending myself and _you_. If they were willing to incapacitate you, who knows what else they were going to do?"

She still didn't know how to feel about those men trying to murder Ward, and shooting her with an I.C.E.R., and she tried not to think about it. Suddenly, her hands patted her sides and legs; she was still wearing the same gear, but the two guns and extra ammunition she had were gone.

"Whe- where are my weapons, Ward?"

"I removed your phone and weapons. I don't actually like being shot."

"You don't trust me," she felt hurt by that, but she supposed that was to be expected; she hadn't been exactly… kind to him, although she had improved.

Ward glanced at her, "I don't trust S.H.I.E.L.D. or Coulson or May, and I don't trust the words they planted your head about me. I trust you, but not your compulsion to please them."

Skye latched onto that word, "Is… that how you felt with Garrett? A _compulsion?"_

"I followed John because I wanted to," she didn't fail to hear the brief harshness in his tone before it vanished. "He needed my help, and I promised to save him."

Recognizing she wouldn't get more out of him about Garrett, and she wasn't sure she was ready to know more about that monster since her mind was still fried from previous revelations, Skye looked out the window; they were on the highway. "Where are we? Is this… a kidnapping? This is twice now you've kidnapped me."

"It's not a kidnapping."

"_Really?_ So I can _leave?_ You'll just… drop me off somewhere?"

Ward sighed heavily, "I want you to trust me, but I understand why you don't. If… you want me to drop you off, I'll… I'll do it."

Skye blinked back her shock; his hesitation alerted her to how much he didn't want to do that, but she believed that he would if she wanted. "What are you planning to do?" She asked instead, suddenly unsure; she didn't know what to do. She should absolutely go back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and tell Coulson everything Ward was planning, but… she abruptly realized that she didn't want to.

Right now, simply driving in a car was a simplicity in life that she hadn't realized how much she missed, she needed. The burdens in her heart and mind were slowly being eased as she was away from the Playground and S.H.I.E.L.D. itself; the stress began to bleed away and the haunting vivid image of Donnie Gill started to finally fade. It felt liberating and she didn't want it to end. Would her nightmares finally subside? Would she finally sleep peacefully for the first time in months?

Ward's presence should have made her more stressed, but to her dismay, it didn't, and she didn't feel nearly as bitter about the fact that she fell in love with an asshole with monstrous tendencies who adored a monster in Garrett as she had before. The words from Vault D returned to her suddenly. Was staying at S.H.I.E.L.D. truly something that she wanted to do? Did she want to be doing the same thing for years on end and the only retirement she would get is death?

"I was planning to take you to your father," Ward answered, and his words pounded at her mind and immediately, her decision was made.

"Then where are we going?"

The sudden relaxation of his hand on the steering wheel notified her of his relief and surprise. "Philadelphia. I have a locker in a bus station with money and supplies I need in a situation like this. Before that, in the next hour, we'll need to switch vehicles."

"I could use food," she felt the emptiness of her stomach. "I haven't eaten anything all day."

"Why?"

She sighed, "I was nervous about the transfer, so I didn't eat. I didn't feel hungry, but now I do. Speaking of that, why didn't you eat a lot of the food in Vault D?"

"It was poisoned. Most of the food was. It was rare when it wasn't."

Skye stared at him, horrified; his right hand held the steering wheel and the other rested on the window sill, arm pressed against the window. "_What?_"

"It was strong poison, too." Ward had the horrible habit of speaking casually about things that shouldn't be spoken of casually. "Could take out an elephant. I knew from the smell."

"You- you can do that? Smell _poison?"_

"Yes. Training is intense and only the best survive," he glanced at her, lips curling. "I'm the _best_, Skye. Someone - probably one of the 'courageous' lower Agents who thought they would destroy the monster in the basement - was trying to kill me. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't as 'good' as you think."

"No," she shook her head. "Coulson, he would've known."

"Your faith in him is misplaced."

Skye's lips thinned, "Just as yours was in _Garrett?"_

Ward looked over at her and she couldn't make out his face. "My faith in John was _never_ misplaced. What was misplaced was the _assurance_ that the GH-325 would save him; it did but at the cost of John's mind. If I see that bitch again, I'm going to shoot her."

"Raina?"

"The arrogance of that woman…" he sounded angry and Skye listened, fascinated; she hated Garrett, but she was learning to deal with that, to keep it under control so she could communicate with and understand Ward. "As if _I_ wouldn't know when someone's manipulating me."

Skye's eyes widened and she bit her lip to keep from pointing out Garrett's blatant manipulation, and when she feared she wouldn't be able to, she thankfully saw a food sign. "I need food, Ward."

Ward exited the highway and drove down the restaurant mile until he pulled into a crowded McDonald's. She gave him her order and watched as he effortlessly angled his face away from the camera, and after a wait of around five minutes, she was given her food. Although Skye wanted to scarf it down, she tried not to; the silence in the car was overwhelming as Ward turned back on the highway. She sat there in her seat, chewing her food, conflicting emotions bubbling within her. She hated that she didn't feel terror or rage at him; he had killed S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents and pretty-much kidnapped her, but… being away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and all of the intense pressure felt freeing. The most significant freedom was the destruction of the shadows in her mind manifested in the tormenting image of Donnie Gill.

She should want to pull a gun on Ward and shoot him, but she didn't. If she had been in the presence of either Coulson, May, Fitz, or Simmons, she was sure she would feel differently, pressured by the memories of what Ward had done, but right now, all she felt was relief at eating food.

"Remember what happened last time we did this? Went to a place and got food?" She gestured vaguely, trying to keep the silence from becoming tense. "It didn't work out for you."

She heard the brief huff of laughter, "I knew what you were doing. The moment I saw that first cop, it was confirmed."

Skye stared at the shadowy mass uncomprehendingly and almost choked on her last bite, but managed to swallow it. "_What? _You- you _knew?"_

"You have potential, Skye, but you weren't going to fool me. I don't know why, but all of you seem to forget what I can do, how I was trained. I learned to read people when I was a child. I got good at it fast. I had to. None of you have fooled me. Maybe you will someday, but not yet. Not for a long time. The blatant change in your attitude and body were all there. One moment you were open, happy, and smiling, the next you were stiff in comparison; your smile was good, and you've had much practice in your life smiling like nothing's wrong, but your eyes were clouded, not genuine. It takes years of training and practice in terrible situations to control your eyes, and even then, it's not perfect. I know how to read someone's eyes. All the signs were there that you found out. I didn't want to believe it, and I continued trying to talk myself out of it, but I knew. Did you _really_ think you could fool me?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I- I thought I did. You looked so- "

"All an act. I'll admit that the kiss you gave me threw me off for a few moments, but I knew you had found Koenig's body; it was the only thing that made sense. The fact you were pretty much waiting for me outside that closet was a rookie mistake; you overplayed your hand. But it was clever to put the penny back; it was good environmental awareness. I was proud of you for that. You would have never had enough awareness to do that if I hadn't taught you."

"Why?" Skye asked softly, "Wh- why did you… _pretend?_ Let me think… I tricked you?"

"I didn't want it to end," the words contained something and she didn't want to pinpoint what it was. "Even if I had to pretend, it was worth it."

Skye immediately shoved her napkins and wadded wrappers into the bag loudly, trying to get away from those words. "You didn't want anything? Not even a… coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. It's a weakness to rely on something other than yourself."

She didn't want to have to deal with something that was obviously ingrained into him by Garrett. "You said you hardly ate any of the food in Vault D. Shouldn't you be… starving?"

"I'm not. I've gone over two weeks without food of any kind before. I'll be fine."

She tensed and her dread screamed at her; she supposed there was no escaping the ghost of Garrett's memory. "Was that a test for… Garrett?"

"It was during those first weeks after he dropped me off in the woods." Ward's eyes were on the road and he didn't look at her; it somehow made it worse. "That kid was an idiot. It took him nearly dying until he realized raiding cabins was the answer. After that, I had plenty of food. After John taught me how to shoot, I'd kill deer, and a single deer would last me and Buddy for at least four months. Wyoming breeds large deer."

Skye latched onto his earlier point, "You… disassociate yourself from your younger self?"

"I'm not that scared, pathetic kid anymore."

"But you were still… Grant Ward."

Ward's outline turned to look at her and she wished to see his eyes, but it was too dark. "That Grant Ward is a bad memory; he was _weak_."

"So, the opposite of who you are now?"

"Exactly. John showed me how weak I was, how I let Christian and my parents use me, _hollow_ me out. He showed me how they controlled me, and the only way to prevent that from happening again was to be strong, be a _man._ He opened my eyes and I learned everything I could. I wouldn't be _weak_ again."

Skye suppressed her shudder; even though she had realized how messed up his relationship with Garrett was, it was still hard to hear about. "You were in S.H.I.E.L.D. for _ten_ years. Didn't you… learn things from them?"

"All the things I learned in S.H.I.E.L.D. were extensions of what John taught me; all his lessons were only reinforced, Skye. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not an organization of heroes; it's of spies, killers, scientists, and seducers."

"There have to be good guys, Ward," she tried to keep her voice even, controlled. "Otherwise it doesn't make sense. Then there would be two sides to the story. There _isn't._"

"You don't think people had a good reason for willingly joining Hydra?"

Skye remembered Ward's own reason, how he wanted to save the life of his father figure. "I guess… maybe. You keep saying S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same, but S.H.I.E.L.D. never tried to take over the world! Or kill millions or billions of people."

"Yet Project Insight wouldn't have been possible _without_ S.H.I.E.L.D. or Fury. The Helicarriers were commissioned on the order of Fury, who wasn't Hydra. What does that tell you about S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"They weren't thinking," she whispered. "They messed up big time."

She saw Ward's head nod in agreement, "Despite what you may think, Hydra isn't the embodiment of Evil."

"I'm _never_ going to think that."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are identical in their goals but how they accomplish them are different. They both want order- "

"_No,_" she adamantly shook her head. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wants _peace._"

"Peace is a lie. An empty promise from politicians. Peace would nullify the need for S.H.I.E.L.D. in your assessment. No more Agents. There is no such thing as a peaceful soldier, and that's what an Agent is. One who serves under an idealized branch of government. Man's nature doesn't allow for peace. Ever since the wheel of civilization first spun, war has walked hand-in-hand with man. You can't separate them."

Skye swallowed, "That's… I don't believe that."

"I'm not asking you to, and I don't think I even want you to. You wouldn't be you if you did believe that. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra want order, Skye, for man has proved that without order, chaos reigns. S.H.I.E.L.D. wants order through secret surveillance and programs designed to combat terrorism and its enemies, to contain threats to keep the people safe. Hydra goes a step further and seeks the destruction of the system, and forging a new stricter system from the old system's ashes, and destroying every threat in their way."

"Sounds like the Nazis," she muttered.

"More like the Bolshevik Revolution, but only in revolutionizing the system and destroying threats. Germany's descent into Nazism began after World War I and the Treaty of Versailles. The Great Depression didn't help." Why did Skye have the feeling that Ward knew more about history than most Professors? "Hydra targets people of power who would oppose order. Men like Stark."

Skye's eyes widened; she knew that Iron Man would have been killed, but it still sucked hearing. "But Iron Man's a genius. Wouldn't he… I don't know, be useful?"

"No. Von Strucker calls Stark a chaos-bringer," Ward passed a semi-truck on the highway. "It's appropriate. Stark was a warmonger before his injury when he became Iron Man, but he still creates chaos, revolutionizing technology, and his boyhood heroics in the past have done more harm than good. I've read the files and reports. His actions spark the belief that there's a _hero_ who will save you when you're in trouble, but there are no heroes. Only players."

"You wouldn't call… Captain America a _hero?"_ She asked in disbelief, "He stopped Project Insight!"

"Rogers is a soldier, nothing more. He had orders, which was to stop Project Insight, and he would have died to fulfill those orders. He nearly did. Maybe it would have been better if he had died; he clearly doesn't know how to live in a world without war."

"Maybe Captain America's a soldier, but he's still a- "

"Do you know how many men in World War II Rogers killed? Rogers is a soldier; all soldiers fight, kill, and then die. All the Avengers are blood-soaked. Look at Romanoff and Barton." Skye's lips parted, and she tried to ignore what he was saying, but the words slithered through. "Look at Rogers and Stark. Then look at Hulk and Thor. None of them are heroes; they're _players._"

Skye swallowed, "You don't like the Avengers?"

"No. Stark started the 'hero movement' and it's led to the Avengers; they instigate false hope and weakness. By relying on a hero to save you, you're going to die. The only person who can and will save you is you. In the woods, I learned that I can only trust myself and that relying on someone other than yourself is _weak_. You should rely on your own strength alone, not someone else's. The Avengers have been able to ignore it, but I always knew. Some in S.H.I.E.L.D. did, too. I think Fury knew, but it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't; the man's as blind as Caesar. Couldn't sense a plot until it was too late."

"And that made Iron Man and the Avengers a threat?" Skye chose not to mention how Ward clearly relied on Garrett and trusted him; she felt that she was getting him to open up more and it was admittedly, fascinating.

"Hydra's goal was to eliminate anyone who would pose a threat to their new order. Stark definitely would; he's a chaos-bringer. The rest of the Avengers, too."

"Don't you mean _everyone _would oppose it?" Skye asked sarcastically, trying to wrap her mind around his belief about Iron Man and the Avengers.

"It would have been millions, if not billions. Mainly, they were targeting positions of power because one of the fundamental differences between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra is that Hydra will kill all threats. S.H.I.E.L.D. likes to contain and attempt rehabilitation if profitable." Ward glanced at her, "Coulson's moved away from that; he didn't even try to rehabilitate me, and believe me, it would have been profitable."

She swallowed, trying to ignore that he was correct. "But you hate S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Because of what they did to John. S.H.I.E.L.D. is foolish and everyone I've met contradicts themselves; they play favorites and that's _exactly_ what led to everything happening. S.H.I.E.L.D. abandoned John to _die,_ but when it was Coulson's turn, Fury had to keep his favorite Agent; he did everything to save him, but didn't do shit for John." Ward's hand gripped the steering wheel tightly; she was afraid he might rip it off. "Even though John was a better Agent in every way, Coulson was chosen. All John ever heard were excuses - and even after he survived, no one cared. They didn't even ask how. Not even Coulson. No one apologized. You think John and I betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., but S.H.I.E.L.D. betrayed John first - and I was loyal to him. John had a good reason for joining Hydra; they helped save him when Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. refused to."

Skye squandered for words because it shouldn't be possible for her to understand John Garrett's motivations!

"Not everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. is like that," she said eventually. "Surely you see _that!"_

"Just like not everyone in Hydra is evil."

She nodded slowly; he was right. "But you still don't like S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No. S.H.I.E.L.D. is arrogant, especially the higher-ups, and they love to make everyone else's life hell. You think the bigshots in the F.B.I. and C.I.A. are bad? You haven't seen arrogance the likes of- "

"_You're _arrogant!" Skye exclaimed, "That's the pot calling the kettle black! And Garrett, too!"

"But my arrogance is warranted because I'm the best, and that was part of John's charm." Ward dismissed casually and Skye's eyes widened, but before she could challenge that - _and it would be nasty!_ \- he continued. "I've met Fury, and believe me, he's a dirty, arrogant son of a bitch. He had to be to last as the Director, and Coulson's beginning to follow in his footsteps."

"Coulson isn't- "

"Were those men in the armored vehicle there on Coulson's orders?"

Skye froze; she knew what he was alluding to, but it was impossible. "Coulson didn't order them to- to _murder_ you."

"Maybe, but considering he was going to give me to Christian, I wouldn't put it past the bastard."

The dark anger in his tone stole her breath, "Fury and Coulson are different from Hydra, Ward."

"You're right. You think someone of Hydra will kill you? Well, Fury will break your mind and spit on your corpse. Maybe crack a smile. He's the same guy who was arrogant enough to play with the Tesseract, invoking an alien invasion; he even faked the Slingshot Program. Coulson tried to ship me back to Christian, my brother who murdered my other brother. At least you know what you're getting with Hydra. S.H.I.E.L.D. is the friend who will stab you in the back if it's of benefit and you're not 'the favorite.' That's what they did to John."

She ignored how many Agents of Hydra did that to S.H.I.E.L.D.; she didn't want to fight against him about Coulson, so she remembered what they were talking about previously. "Hydra was focused on those in power, right? So they couldn't oppose the 'new world order'?"

"Yes, but it goes further than that. Power exists in the world and it never fluctuates. It's always there, and certain people possess it. S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed a lot of power, and much of the members on Insight's list did, too. Hydra was going to take all that power for themselves."

"_What?"_

Ward sighed, "Project Insight was going to create the ultimate void of power, and Hydra would be the only organization there to seize it. Think about the major revolutions in history, Skye. When a void of power appears, there's _always_ something or someone to replace the old institution - and it's inevitable. The Bolshevik Revolution's slaughtering of the Romanovs created a void of power that went to Lenin and then Stalin after him. Since you like to compare Hydra to the Nazis so often, think about Hitler, and how he became Chancellor of Germany and then later Führer. Think about the French Revolution and Napoleon's seizure of power after Louis XVI was executed. Look at Cromwell in England after Charles I's beheading. Hydra would have done the same thing if Project Insight had succeeded."

Skye swallowed, the realizations blinding, and she felt more thankful that Black Widow and Captain America stopped it. "I never thought of that."

"No one in S.H.I.E.L.D. will. You're focused on Hydra being the bad guys. Just don't try to feel morally superior because everyone had a reason for joining Hydra. Whether they were good or bad reasons, it doesn't matter. Those who didn't have reasons, who Hydra deemed valuable, were forced into compliance."

"You mean, brainwashed?"

"Yes."

"_See?_ That's what makes them evil!"

"It's what makes a select few evil. Not all of them."

Skye frowned, "Why are you saying this?"

"To show you that this is a much more complicated issue than you or S.H.I.E.L.D. think. It's complex, convoluted, _messy._ You can't take the moral high ground with Hydra because S.H.I.E.L.D. is just as guilty as them. Make no mistake, this is a war between two murdering organizations, Skye."

"And S.H.I.E.L.D. is losing," she whispered, but right now, she didn't want to think of that. "Well, Hydra had a ridiculous thought-out plan. It almost worked."

Ward glanced at her, "Speaking of plans, what exactly was _your_ plan? You drop me off to Christian, and then… _leave?"_

"_No._ I- I was kind of making it up as I went along," she admitted reluctantly. "Coulson wanted me to accompany the transfer because he thought that you wouldn't- "

"Try anything with you there," he finished. "I suppose it was a good thing I took charge. You didn't have a plan- "

"I _did_ have a plan," she corrected quickly. "I… I was going to- to talk to your… brother. Convince him- "

"_What?"_ The words were spat out of a clenched jaw. "Are you out of your _mind?_ What did I tell you? You can't reason with him! Christian will- "

"It was all I could think of, Ward!" Skye said hotly, "I'm not quick on my feet about this stuff like you."

Ward's hand gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Even if those morons didn't try to kill me, I still would have escaped. I wouldn't have killed them, but when they touched you, all bets were off. And now Coulson certainly believes that I've murdered 'good people' and kidnapped you."

Skye kept quiet and stared out the window; it had been so long since she had gazed at the stars and something inside her relaxed. "How much longer?"

"We're going to switch cars at the next mile. Be ready."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The bus station was jam-packed, congested in the heart of rush hour, and Tripp wondered how the hell they were supposed to find one of, if not the greatest Specialist he had ever encountered during such an hour. Not to mention one in his prime who absolutely hated their guts.

Morse looked displeased, "Ward could be anywhere; he could have already left. The bastard planned this."

"There's that pessimism, Bob," Hunter rolled his eyes. "The cameras picked up Skye ten minutes ago- "

"And she vanished when a hand grabbed her out of nowhere." Morse reminded tersely, "It was Ward."

"We were already coming this way, so it's not like he had all day to scram. It's only been ten minutes."

Tripp shook his head, "You've never met Ward, Hunter. There's no one better."

"_It's not just Ward!"_ Coulson sounded irritated on the comms, _"That son of a bitch has Skye. The deal with the Senator is off. Do whatever you need to get her away from him. I should have never put her on that transfer. What was I thinking?"_

He had silently wondered about that, and initially figured it was a way of Skye getting closure with Ward or something. But after the sight of the explosion, the revelation of Ward's escape with Skye and the death of those Agents, Simmons had contacted him on a secure phone, stricken, voice a hysterical whisper. She had confessed that Skye had spoken to her about Ward, telling her she loved him and that Ward wasn't a monster, and the only reason why she hadn't gone to Coulson was she feared to break Skye's trust.

It forced Tripp to wonder what potential role Skye could have played in Ward's escape. Could she have fooled them? Personally, Tripp highly doubted it; she may have gotten better, but she wasn't making leaps and bounds. Everything from the escape suggested that it was all Ward and Skye was merely there - something which should have never happened. If Skye had purposefully encouraged Coulson to put her on that transfer, then the Director had lost some marbles. It didn't make sense, and Coulson had been mum on why he put Skye there.

More ways in which Coulson was acting strangely.

"There are a dozen of us and one- "

"Don't forget about Skye," Hunter interrupted Morse. "She'll be wanting to get away from him."

Tripp wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't say anything, not trusting any of them with that type of information. Honestly, he wasn't even sure if he trusted Coulson with that information based on the man's recent decisions.

Morse nodded, "That's right. There's thirteen of us and one of Ward. He's good, but he's not that good. Not against us."

"You ever seen Ward?" Tripp asked warily; he had and he knew from that bastard Garrett's accounts how good he was. Garrett was many things, and unsurprisingly, the bastard told the truth when it hurt. It always bothered him to hear how great Ward was and how no one could compare to Garrett's prodigious golden boy. "If there's anyone I don't want to meet in the field beside the Winter Soldier, Hulk, and Thor, it's Ward. Garrett never shut up about him, and from what I've seen, all the praise is warranted. I think I'd rather face Romanoff or Barton, to be honest."

"_I'll tell them you said that, Agent Triplet."_

"They don't know you're alive, sir."

"_Good point. Now get moving! Find Skye and get her away from Ward. It wouldn't be frowned upon if you kill Ward. Just get it done."_

"You heard him," Morse singled out three of the other troops. "Each of you takes three. Be in groups. Don't get separated."

"_We'll be watching the cameras and let you know if we see anything."_

Tripp gestured towards the end of the Agents. "You three, with me."

They split up and he went immediately towards the lockers; it was what he would do in Ward's position. Plus, Ward had come here to procure supplies and cash; he would have stowed it in a locker. Tripp kept his head up, eyes scanning the crowd, but since it was Ward, he didn't know what to look for. Was Ward in a disguise? Was he walking with a limp? Did he have a hat? What if he had a hunch that made him shorter?

The other Agents were searching, too, but it seemed pointless; he couldn't see anything, and knowing what he did about Ward, it seemed far-fetched that he was still at the bus station. Just then, a flash of color caught his eye and he saw someone - a man - vanish into the restroom. Tripp stiffened; he recognized that build! The fact that the man had nearly slipped past all their notice was also a sign; it must be Ward!

Motioning for the other Agents to follow him, "We're entering the restroom. Saw a man with Ward's build. Was it him, sir?"

"_I didn't see anything, Agent Triplet. The cameras move; the bastard's moving in-time with the cameras, so he can't be seen."_

"_Do you want back-up?"_ Morse questioned from wherever she was. _"It will take us a few- "_

"No," he shook his head. "Too long. We'll handle it. I don't know if it's Ward, but we're ready for him. He's alone, so Skye's somewhere around here. Find her while we deal with him."

Tripp pulled out his weapon and inched towards the entrance to the restroom, and when he opened the door, a hand blurred at him, twisting his wrist painfully; his gun fell from numb fingers. He didn't let that stop him, and he rushed forward, trying to wrap Ward in grapple before a bullet would end his life, but he was thrown off; he smashed into the tile and felt the wind knocked out of him. The other Agents stormed into the restroom, weapons raised, but Tripp saw through pained eyes that Ward had somehow taken his I.C.E.R. and one-by-one, he disposed of each man.

They were alone.

He tried to speak into the comms, but Ward suddenly appeared and picked him up; his face was smashed against the wall and the familiar feeling of a barrel of a gun was placed against the back of his head.

"_We can't see you!"_ Coulson sounded alarmed, _"What happened? Is it- "_

"You move, you're dead," the words were hissed through a clenched jaw. "This one's not an I.C.E.R., Tripp. It's pathetic. None of you have been able to master blending in with crowds. I spotted you the moment you and your other idealistic crusaders got here."

"Where's Skye?" Tripp demanded, unmoving as blood dripped out of his mouth; he didn't dare try anything with Ward. "_Where_ is she, Ward?"

"Handcuffed to a radiator. Who else is with you? Coulson's a naive fool, but he's not an idiot. Who else did he send besides you and your friends? Is the building surrounded? If you value your life, you won't lie. I'll know if you do."

Tripp didn't doubt it, "Just us. The building's not surrounded. Coulson had faith we could get you and rescue Skye."

"Coulson is getting dumber by the day. Maybe he is an idiot. The GH-325 is driving him mad; he doesn't make sense, does he? It's just like John." Tripp froze at the implication, and how Ward was right about Coulson's recent questionable judgment. "And who is 'us,' Tripp? I recognized Morse, but who were the other disciples?"

"Lance Hunter, Morse's ex-husband, and nine other Agents who I only met today."

"Glad I can warrant a dozen of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finest," the words were sarcastic and so different from the Ward who he had known that Tripp had to remind himself who held him at gunpoint. "What aren't you telling me, Tripp?"

"You're a piece of shi- "

Tripp almost buckled and tears instinctively welled in his eyes when the butt of the pistol whipped the back of his head; his vision blackened and he would have collapsed if Ward's vice-like grip hadn't allowed it.

"Wrong. What else?"

"_We're looking for Skye. Keep him bu- "_

"Is that Coulson?" Ward's fingers dug the earpiece out and he was helpless to prevent it. "Coulson? Piss blood."

Tripp heard a _crunching_ sound and Ward's fingers entered his eyesight and between them, the earpiece was crushed.

How the hell? Did he squeeze his fingers together until the earpiece was destroyed? "You're not going to get- "

"The only reason you're still alive is Skye, Tripp; she wouldn't want you to die. I've made such progress with her. I don't want her to go back to hating me."

So Simmons had been right; Skye had been looking into Ward, visiting him when she wasn't supposed to. "I _mean_ it. You aren't- "

"And I'm not remotely interested. They can't hear you and right now, they're not coming to get you. They're looking for Skye, but they won't find her. I made sure of that."

"You bastard," he growled out and his elbow surged back but Ward didn't even move; it felt like hitting a brick wall, an immovable object. Suddenly, a muscular arm hooked through his stunned elbow, and Tripp was sent careening backward. He landed on the ground with a groan and when he looked up, Ward loomed over him, a pistol pointed at him; it wasn't an I.C.E.R. "What do you want, Ward?"

"We Specialists are always resourceful, aren't we? So if you want to walk out of here with all your fingers, you'll use your resourcefulness to remember everything you can about what they did with John's valuables after Coulson killed him."

"_What?"_ Tripp stared up at Ward in disbelief, "That's what this is about? You really are nothing but a loyal mutt, aren't you?"

Ward smiled and it was all teeth. "I guess that makes you the bitch in heat under me."

"Fuck you."

"You'll have to wait in-line after Skye," Ward laughed freely but the gun didn't waver; their eyes never disconnected. "After I changed out of prison garbs, those 'bedroom eyes' of hers were- "

"You pig, Garrett's stuff is back at the Playground," he spat out. "_Why?"_

"That wasn't so hard, was it? You even gave me the name of the base. How thoughtful."

Tripp cursed, realizing that he had just been played; how obtuse of him not to pick up on the lies! "Why do you want to know about Garrett's stuff, Ward? What, was there some sort of secret weapon that only you can activate?"

Ward shrugged, "I want John's jacket, what's rightfully mine. He said he would give it to me. Among other things."

He blinked, taken aback; he saw no signs of dishonesty. "This is an _inheritance grab?"_

"Something like that. Coulson would never give it to me while he kept me in that damn basement. You're going to tell me something else."

"Not happening."

"You really don't value your life, do you? That's S.H.I.E.L.D. for you; they encourage self-destruction. You should try being a survivor like me and John; your life will become a lot better."

"Bullshit!"

"What was going to happen after I was given to my brother?" Ward demanded and Tripp inhaled slowly, staring up at those dark, dangerous eyes. "I know you know. Skye didn't, but you do. You, Morse, and Hunter were following the transfer. Coulson must have told you what was planned."

"A public execution," he said quietly. "That's what Coulson suspected; he said that much, but that's all I know."

Ward didn't react, "That's what I thought. And Coulson was completely content with that outcome, wasn't he?"

Tripp didn't answer.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Ward descended on the other Agents - the same ones that had accompanied Morse and Hunter - like a feral beast. Guns were smacked away and men were thrown violently against the wall. Tripp struggled to his feet, feeling his vision blur for a moment, and he braced himself against one of the stalls, unable to do anything as Ward fired his I.C.E.R. into each of them.

"I appreciate the courtesy of not attacking," Ward glanced down at him, and for the first time, he noticed the large backpack. "I'll be nice because of it."

"Well, I'll give you one thing," he muttered, holding a hand to the back of his head; he didn't care that he was showing weakness. Holy hell, Ward could hit hard; he was pretty sure his skull was cracked. "You're one hell of a Specialist. _Fuck._ Garrett was right."

"John was always right. He liked you, you know? Thought you had potential." Ward suddenly chuckled, "Of course, it's nothing compared to mine. You're always going to be second-rate in comparison."

"You really were Garrett's golden boy," he spat, glaring him; his animosity surged forward as the memories of doubt and insecurity from always being compared by Garrett to the great Grant Ward and falling drastically short converged. "As I said, you were nothing but a dog, you know that? You were the meanest, biggest dog, but that's it. Your brother should put you down; that's the right call."

Ward smirked, "You're about to feel my bite."

Tripp was too slow to react to the blazing butt of the gun that was aimed at his temple.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant stepped over Tripp's crumpled, unconscious body and grabbed the earpiece of one of the Agents, and put it in his own ear.

"_\- matter of time, sir."_ That was a woman's voice - Morse. _"We'll find her."_

"_Make sure that you do, Agent Morse,"_ Coulson sounded angry and Grant felt satisfaction. _"I don't want anything to happen to Agent Skye. Ward should be dealt with by now."_

John laughed and he felt pride. _"Son, this is fun. I'm almost thankful to be dead because now I get to see ol' Phil fuck everything up. You got to him in ways I never could. Well done. Now go get my stuff and get rid of the girl."_

"_Agent Williams, come in," _Coulson demanded as Grant exited the restroom, quickly slipping into the crowd, keeping his eyes on the cameras and his surroundings. _"Agent Williams!"_

"_Sir, I don't think any of them will answer,"_ a masculine voice said - Hunter. _"Ward must have… dealt with them."_

"_Agent Hughes? Williams? Ross? Peterson? Anyone?"_

"_Ward got them, sir,_" Morse was grim. _"They failed."_

"_Damn it!"_ Coulson swore heatedly and Grant delighted in hearing the loss of control. _"Find Skye. Do it now. And get out of there once you find her. I don't want to lose more Agents to Ward."_

"_We've looked everywhere, sir," _Morse reported tersely. _"She's not here._"

"_That's it!"_ Hunter's voice sounded excited and Grant felt dread, _"She's not here in the bus station! She's outside! Maybe she's on one of the buses."_

"_We haven't seen anything from the cameras where the buses are," _Coulson notified. _"Perhaps beyond the buses? Shockingly, there are no cameras in the parking lot. I think they're doing maintenance. You'll have no help from us."_

"_Let's go,"_ Morse said. _"She can't be far."_

"_They caught onto you,"_ John's glee faded, replaced by seriousness, a command. _"Leave this girl to them. I don't like what you're doing with her."_

He covered the mic, "I don't care, John."

"_This is how they get you!" _John roared, "_Of all the pathetic weakness I've ever seen, this girl is the cherry on top."_

"_We're outside," _Hunter reported and Grant hurried his pace; he wasn't successful in ignoring John, but in not responding. _"There must be at least 20 buses here! Which one?"_

"_As Coulson said, it might not be a bus. Come on. This way."_ Morse was agitated and Grant finally exited the bus station; he didn't see Morse or Hunter. _"If Ward's not with Skye, shouldn't she be running away?"_

"_Ward hand-cuffed her to a radiator, he said, before Tripp's earpiece was destroyed." _Coulson informed, "_I don't know if that's true, but I believe the hand-cuffed part. Otherwise, Skye would be long gone."_

"_Wait a minute. Wait a minute!" _Hunter said frantically and Grant immediately ran in the direction where he had left Skye in the parking lot; he had just enough awareness to avoid the cameras. _"I think that's her! You see her, Bob? The one who's- what? Why is she pacing?"_

Grant hissed between his teeth - she hadn't done as he had told her! - and John sighed dramatically. _"I guess S.H.I.E.L.D.'s not as dumb as we thought, son. This is destiny! Don't you see? You're not supposed to stick with the girl. Get away, and forget about her."_

"_I see her, sir,"_ Morse's voice echoed in his ears and he inwardly snarled. _"We'll get her. Ward is nowhere in sight."_

It was only a matter of seconds! He had only seconds until Skye was taken from him!

Two cars were parked ahead and Grant dashed past them, and he saw Skye in the distance; she was supposed to be in the car, but she was pacing in front of the short flight of steps that led to the back entrance of the bus station. He could see the figures of Morse and Hunter converging on her, and she was unaware; she had no idea, consumed by inner thoughts!

He could still salvage it!

Grant ran raster and he could have sworn the pavement cracked beneath him, but he didn't pay attention; he was focused on Skye and the wind was painful against his face as he bolted toward them. His hand was in his jacket, gripping the I.C.E.R., and Morse and Hunter were three-hundred yards away from him, sixty from Skye, and thankfully, Skye looked lost in thought.

"_Hydra!"_ Grant roared, hoping Skye reacted instinctively and went for cover. "Hydra! Get _down!"_

Skye's head snapped upward, shock on her face, eyes wide. Hunter and Morse both spun around and leveled their weapons at him, but he was faster, diving to the side. Tripp's I.C.E.R. was held steady and he fired in mid-air, his aim perfect; Morse arched backward, and with her body caught in a paralysis, collapsed to the pavement, unconsciousness claiming her.

Three bullets whizzed over his head and impacted into the exterior of a car, and he responded immediately. Hunter followed his ex-wife into unconsciousness.

"_What happened? Was that Ward?"_ Coulson demanded into the earpiece and he took it out and crushed it between his fingers; the strange strength was quite fun.

Grant raced towards Skye, who had taken cover behind a car; he reached her in seconds. "Come _on! _Get up! We need to leave."

"What happened? How did Hydra- "

"It was S.H.I.E.L.D.," he said quickly, knowing a lie would eventually come back to bite him. "Tripp, Morse, Hunter, and nine other Agents."

Skye's face paled; she looked horrified. "_No._ Ward, did you- "

"Look for yourself," he pointed towards Morse and Hunter's unmoving, unbloodied bodies laying in the street; people had begun to crowd around them. "I stole Tripp's I.C.E.R., and I didn't kill anyone."

"_Good,_" she breathed out and stared at them; she looked torn, unsure. "I don't…"

"_You've done a number on her, Romeo,_" John commented slyly. _"The fact that she hasn't run towards them, or run away when she had the chance, proves it. She's already falling in love with you again. You work fast. Pretty soon, you'll get to fuck her."_

Grant ignored him, "Come on. Others will be here soon. You don't want them to know you're helping me, do you?"

She inhaled deeply and stared up at him; she remained kneeling. "Thank you for not… killing them. I know you could have."

"It was to blend in," he didn't know why he pretended that was the reason. "Civilians would see blood on my clothes. They'd cause a scene."

Skye narrowed her eyes and stood to her feet. "I thought you weren't going to lie to- "

He stiffened instinctively when he heard the click of a rifle; he spun around and shoved Skye back to the ground as four rapid shots exploded from the gun held by the mass of a masked man standing on the other side of the line of buses. Fragments of concrete burst into dust but two of the bullets connected; he staggered, feeling the force of each bullet catapult him back, and he tripped over Skye, crashing to the pavement with a groan, blood weeping as it stained the stone.

"_Ward!"_ Skye screamed and he rolled back, ignoring the searing pain, and pushed her back against the car, out of the gunman's line-of-sight. He jumped to his knees, and another bullet screeched into his back; the areas sizzled as pain screamed at him, but he ignored it and feigned to the left before diving to the right, safe from more bullets.

But more bullets came, splattering into the pavement, the shrieks of ricochets following each shot. Dimly noticing that all the civilians standing around Morse and Hunter's bodies had fled, Grant spun his bleeding body around, peeking his head underneath the car; the masked man was approaching steadily. For now, the storm had ceased, but it would soon begin again.

"_Just kill him already,_" John groaned. _"Come on, son. You were always a show-off. Just end it. You have the advantage, so use it!"_

Grant looked at Skye; he heard her heart racing. "Get out of here. _Go. _I'll cover you. Take this," he tossed her the backpack full of all his supplies. "I'll catch up. I'll meet you at the entrance we used."

Skye caught the backpack and stared at him, eyes wide before she nodded; she stood to her feet and he jumped up, shooting at the man. Skye bolted and the masked man dove to the side, hiding behind one of the other cars.

"_So that's how it'll be? A game of chicken. Is that it?"_

"Not now, John," he muttered and craned his head, seeing Skye vanish with the backpack into the crowd of frantic people; she hadn't even glanced at the still-unconscious Morse and Hunter.

He felt his injuries, saw the blood oozing out of him, but the pain was at the edge of his consciousness, a small flame with the potential to become an inferno. Grant chuckled quietly; he had invoked Hydra's presence by calling upon them earlier. It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D., for Skye was almost hit, so that left Hydra, but why would Hydra want him dead? Sure, he had given Skye information about them, but it was nothing over worth killing him. After all, he was an immensely valuable commodity; Hydra should be begging him to work for them. He would immediately become one of, if not their best asset since the Soldier had disappeared after Project Insight.

Grant crouched and his hearing picked up the sound of rushing feet; he heard the tell-tale sign of a pin being pulled from a grenade, and he instinctively jumped back.

The car erupted in thick, smoky flames, and dangerous debris became piercing weapons. Grant rolled to the side, away from the gunmen, and fired his weapon; he ignored the shards of metal embedded in his hands from the explosion. The bullet connected to the man's chest, and the man stumbled but kept coming. Then the gunmen tore off the mask; the black fabric fluttered to the street.

"_That's some good Kevlar,_" John pointed out calmly. _"Why didn't you- "_

His hearing malfunctioned as he stared at the man, at the nearly featureless mass of scar tissue where a face should be. It was clearly an older man based on the walk and wrinkles along the neck, varicose veins swelling. He was going insane like John! Blurred images from a forgotten past split suddenly through his mind, breaking through a crack, assaulting his consciousness like an unrelenting pendulum. Past and present converged, a terrible lie; long-sealed doors in his mind, memories of his childhood - _of Christian!_ \- briefly cracked open and then slammed shut. Pain condensed in his temples and Grant felt weary in ways he had never experienced; he staggered on his feet, the pain jolting his mind with the force of screeching thunderbolts.

"I _know_ you," he whispered, arms heavy; he only stared at the gunmen and saw more details that he didn't want to - and John couldn't be heard. In the webbed and wrinkled, barbed-looking flesh, the nose had no skin; only charred cartilage was visible, blackened and cracked. The mouth was nonexistent, a thin line that looked more like a gash, barely capable of opening. "Why do I know you? Who are you?"

The man's scorched face was stretched painfully, trying to contort into a visible representation of emotion and the two dark eyes were startling out of place; they looked like misshapen marbles - _why did he know the face?_ "Christian gives his regards, Grant. Before I kill you, and it's been a long time coming, he tasked me with delivering a message: You'll feel right at home in Hell, brother, for you were always fiery."

"_Deny defeat!"_ John suddenly roared and the sound snapped him out of whatever had happened. _"SURVIVE!"_

Grant and the man both raised their weapons and a gunshot echoed, but it wasn't him who had fired; the assassin's throat burst open towards him. The blood was bright as the killer collapsed unevenly, twitching until he became forever still as blood spread in all directions. Tripp stood behind the corpse, gun raised; they stared at each other for several moments, one bleeding and buzzed for another fight, and the other tired and looking pained.

"_Well, I'll be damned,_" John laughed. _"I knew there was a reason why I didn't kill that kid when I had the chance. You're welcome. He saved your ass."_

"No, he didn't," he whispered before raising his voice. "So what is this, Tripp? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Tripp's face was swollen from where he had struck him with the butt of the pistol, a dark mass of gruesome purple. "You didn't kill me when you could have. From what I could tell, you didn't kill anyone. I hate owing people, least of all you. I saw what happened."

"What did you see?"

"You froze," the utter bemusement in Tripp's voice angered him, but he couldn't think of a reasonable excuse. "I didn't think it possible. So I stepped in- "

"I would have killed that son of a bitch," he snarled, something that felt like fear plaguing his mind - _why did he know the man?_ "You shouldn't have stopped me. My mercy's about to run out."

Tripp held up his hands and from the way he was standing, Grant reckoned the ribs were broken; probably from when he had slammed Tripp earlier in the restroom. "Maybe. I've been on the receiving end of your mercy enough to shudder when I think how it would be without mercy. But you said you knew him. He said Christian gave his regards." The only emotion to cross Tripp's face was wariness. "Did he mean…?"

"My brother," he confirmed, not knowing why he was giving Tripp the time of day; it was probably the result of the mental trauma he had just endured. "He sent an assassin after me. Probably was following S.H.I.E.L.D., knowing you would lead him to me."

"_Damn,_" Tripp's eyes closed briefly. "I'm at least glad to know I was never the only one who didn't agree with the plan to ship you to your brother for an execution."

"Didn't sound like it."

Tripp looked mildly uncomfortable, "You pissed me off, man. I said that to hurt you, but… Coulson shouldn't have made that deal. I assume Skye, since she's willingly stayed with you, was against it."

"We made progress. Why are you doing this? You're a professional. So from one professional to another, answer honestly, Tripp. You can guess what will happen if you don't, and I'll be the meanest son of a bitch you'll ever recall meeting when you're buried in a hole in the ground. Take that into account before you decide how to answer."

"_I hope he doesn't play it smart,_" John whispered in anticipation, _"Start with his fingers, son. Then start yanking out the kid's teeth. Maybe find a clamp and crush his- "_

"I don't like you," Tripp stated bluntly before sighing. "I've wanted you dead for a long time, but you could have killed me back there multiple times. You could have already killed me right now. You could have killed any of us, but you didn't. And you're right about Coulson; he's been acting strange, making questionable decisions."

"Not interested."

Tripp frowned, "You're _not?_ You're the one who pointed it out."

"Maybe academically, but beyond that, all I hope is that the GH-325 makes Coulson as insane as John became. It would be just. Coulson is who killed John."

"How did you- "

"Skye."

Tripp sighed, "Well, it might be better if… if Skye's away from S.H.I.E.L.D., at least for a little while. I'll keep an eye on FitzSimmons."

"What a change of heart," he replied dryly, considering whether to believe him; he saw nor heard deceit. "And earlier you were calling me a mutt."

Tripp didn't blink, "You are."

"_The kid's got balls,"_ John chuckled heartily. _"I like that. You do, too."_

Grant nodded in agreement, "That's less descriptive than usual. You've softened your stance towards me. Skye told me how loyal you are to Coulson. Why are you- "

"Coulson saved my life," Tripp looked guilty and Grant almost shot him; he feared the guilt would instigate a change of heart, but it didn't. "I owe him a lot, but… something's going on. With S.H.I.E.L.D. and everyone on base. I expect a knife in the back, and not because of overcompensation from Hydra's Uprising. There were secrets before, but now you can taste it as you walk the halls. Skye shouldn't be near that, not with her father out there; she has enough to deal with. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you of all people can help her. "

"You _met_ her father?" He leaned forward, interested, "You know of him?"

Tripp smiled tightly, "The man's insane; he raves about Skye's destiny. He severed my artery and Coulson was forced to save me instead of going after him."

"He's _human?"_ Grant hummed; he at least knew that he was a gifted and not something else. "I'm almost disappointed."

"Honestly, I don't know if he is human. I felt his strength; it was… incredible. He's either an Asgardian or a secret Super-Soldier."

"_The topic of Super-Soldiers seems to be coming up a lot lately,_" John sounded disapproving. _"If there were honest-to-God Super-Soldiers out there besides the Boy Scout and the Soldier, I would have known about it."_

Grant glanced at the dead assassin. "I guess I owe you one, now."

"I don't think so. Consider this a thank you for not killing all of us when you could have. I still don't like you, and I'm sure one day that I'll look down on your corpse because if I see you again, I'll kill you, Ward. As Pacino said, you're going down."

He knew of the name, but not the reference. "We're of the same mindset. Next time, there won't be an I.C.E.R."

Tripp looked towards Morse and Hunter's unconscious forms; sirens were in the distance. "I'm getting out of here. I'm going to round up every one I can. I got some smelling salts; that should wake 'em up. If they see you, they won't be as accommodating this time as me, Ward." Tripp suddenly looked back at him, "Where's Skye?"

Grant tensed and craned his head, trying to find Skye, but she was gone. "I… don't know. I told her to get out of here. She… might be on her way back to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You'll find her. S.H.I.E.L.D. might be coming to you," Tripp warned as he began to gingerly march towards the unconscious Morse and Hunter; they were starting to twitch. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them I woke up in the restroom with the biggest fucking headache I've ever had. You hit hard."

"Well, I hope to never see you again," he smirked. "I'm sure you feel the same."

"You have no idea."

Grant considered Tripp's departing form; maybe he'd convince Skye's father to not kill him. A third person was added to his list of unkillables besides Skye: Fitz, Simmons, and Tripp. He sighed, wondering if that mercy would come back to bite him, as it had with May - _never again!_ \- but he wouldn't think about that now. He had to leave!

He bolted, energy pumping through him; he suddenly remembered his wounds and looked down. Just like the first wound from the transfer, they had all vanished. Only bloodstains were visible from his jacket, but there were no wounds. Not anymore. He adjusted his hold and reached under the clothes, and three bullets fell, having been caught in the clothing.

What the hell was happening to him? Why did he know the scar-faced assassin he was sure that he had never seen before? Why did the man's face spark a flooding of images he couldn't try to comprehend? Why was he almost bullet-proof?

Questions for another time.

Grant approached the back entrance to the bus station's parking lot, the same one through which he and Skye had entered earlier, but she was nowhere to be seen; a sickening hollowness spread through him.

"_How wise, son,_" John quipped and the familiar smirk was on his face. _"It's for the best. Don't worry about her. What'd I tell ya? You can only rely on yourself. Now get out of here and fix yourself up."_

What had he done? Skye was gone! What was he thinking? Grant could have kept her near him while he dealt with the assassin that he somehow knew who had been sent by Christian! How had he allowed this to happen? Everything was pointless without Skye; it was all for nothing.

Then he heard the sound of tires in contact with gravel. A car cautiously crept past the edge of the building into view; he hadn't even seen it! Skye was in the driver's seat, eyes wary, but when she saw him, she looked relieved.

"_That bitch,"_ John groaned.

Grant's own relief was astronomical and he opened the car and sat in the passenger seat; the backpack was in the back seat.

"Hydra's never far away, are they?" She looked concerned before panic set in, "Wait, you were _shot!"_

"I'm fine," he waved her off.

"I see _blood,_ Ward! Are you hurt?"

Grant pulled up the shirt and showed her the unblemished flesh; he saw the relief and then her eyes focused on his abs. He smirked before lowering the fabric, "Apparently, I heal fast."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes and he felt thankful that she didn't ask questions; he couldn't even answer them if he wanted to. "Where should- "

"Just get out of the city."

Skye nodded before she stiffened; he saw her swallow. "The radio was on. It- it was… your brother; it was breaking news… He outed you as Hydra to the country; everyone knows who Grant Ward is. He said only by his hand could… the flame be extinguished. Whatever that means."

Grant stared at her unblinkingly; the words washed over him but he felt unaffected. He knew it wouldn't last for long before the hate boiled. "The last man was an assassin sent by Christian. He wants me dead."

"_What?" _Skye gasped, eyes widening. "He tried to- "

"Kill me."

"I'm sorry," she looked sorrowful, but she also looked slightly baffled; she would understand if she had Christian as a brother. "What do you want to do?"

"_Get rid of your weakness!" _John ordered, _"This mean older brother has done you in for too long. Shoot the girl and go after your brother!"_

He stared at Skye; their eyes locked, and he ignored the phantom memories lurking in his skull engendered by the scar-faced assassin. "I'm still going to take you to your father, but first, we're going to take a little detour. I think it's time for a family reunion."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****The transfer happens, and honestly, the way the transfer went down in Canon was, to me, immensely dissatisfying. It was TOO easy for a man of Grant Ward's caliber. I mean, how effortless was it? That's just plot-driven stupidity, in my opinion. I thought Coulson intentionally made the transfer too pathetically easy so Ward could get into Hydra as a double agent or something - which would lead to redemption. That's what I thought, but it never happened, and it was never explained why Coulson was so stupid in doing the transfer. (Yes, I know the Senator is who was in charge, but Coulson shouldn't keel over when it's a man like Grant Ward. He should have his own detail and Agents to make sure.) So in this, Ward escapes with Skye after killing some of the Agents on the transfer; he steals a man's car and wallet.**

**Not to mention, something strange happened when he escaped; he became stronger, faster, and could heal rapidly. What's happening to him? I hate to be that writer, but you'll have to wait and see.**

****Skye gets Ward to open up more about his thoughts on everything, his true thoughts. I think Ward's personal belief system/philosophy would be very Nietzschean and centered on strength and weakness. Because it was shown that Garrett was quite Nietzschean, so Ward would inevitably be that way, too. It makes sense. So as a result, Ward doesn't believe in heroes and thinks the Avengers cause more harm than good. He talks about Hydra and what Hydra was doing and I went much more in-depth about what Hydra was going to achieve. Because Hydra's goal was a revolution, and all revolutions change the system and create voids of power if successful. **

**Skye being able to fool Ward into thinking that she didn't find Koenig's body doesn't make too much sense. What makes MUCH more sense is Ward allowing everything to happen because he didn't want 'the magical' moment to end; he wanted to keep pretending. Ironically, they were both pretending. Say what you will about Skye, but she doesn't have any of the training or experiences that Ward does, and the only reason how she could have possibly tricked Ward was that Ward was blind because of his affection, but then that discounts who and what Ward is; he's not someone who can be tricked - except when it comes to Garrett. **

****The S.H.I.E.L.D. team consisting of Morse, Hunter, and Tripp meets Ward at the bus station. Ward non-fatally picks them all off after interrogating Tripp. But then an assassin - who Ward somehow knows - sent by the Senator appears and tries to kill him. There's a lot more to Ward than at first glance. Tripp shows up and kills the assassin, leading to a stand-off in which neither Ward nor Tripp kill each other. Instead, Tripp recognizes that Ward hadn't killed any of them when he easily could have - whether it was for Skye or not, it doesn't matter. Tripp expresses concern with what Coulson has been doing, how he's been acting, and as a result, is willing to let Ward go and help Skye. Out of anyone besides Skye and Fitz, Tripp should be the one to be able to think about Ward logically. After all, he's a Specialist, too, and personally knew Garrett. For him to ignore everything and just call Ward a monster is one-dimensional, based on his training and experiences with Garrett. **

****The Senator reveals Ward's Hydra 'loyalties' on the radio and Ward decides to pay his brother a visit.**

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

"There's _nothing?"_

Tripp shrugged, meeting Coulson's eyes; the Director radiated displeasure. "Sorry, sir, but this is _Ward._ We're not going to find him, not if he doesn't want us to. We've been looking, but the bastard's a ghost; he's _gone_."

They were in a meeting, and the atmosphere was tense; he hadn't felt air like this since Hydra's Uprising. It was hard to meet Coulson's eyes, especially with the memory of saving Ward's life, but Tripp didn't regret it. He hadn't known who the assassin was, only one sent by Ward's own brother - and damn, did that tell him a lot. While Ward was a bastard, he thankfully wasn't an active Hydra Agent. Plus, things around the Playground had been strange, and he had a soft spot for Skye; she would only get help from Ward because based on what he had seen, the bastard would move heaven and earth to please her. While he owed Coulson a lot, his life for one, he couldn't ignore the man's strange, illogical decisions, and at the forefront of those was Ward's transfer. It didn't make sense, and the fact that the Senator was willing to keel over so quickly should have raised red-flags, but Coulson hadn't thought so.

"If we don't move now, we risk the chance of losing Ward _forever._" Coulson stated adamantly, "Look for Skye. _Find _her. Ward is elusive, but Skye is not; she's probably already tried to leave a message in secure servers."

"The problem is, sir, none of us are Skye," Morse spoke from where she was seated. "We don't know where to look."

May glanced at Morse, and Tripp raised a brow in interest. "Then try _harder_. Look for Ward if you can't find Skye. Either way, we need to get her back no matter what."

Hunter whistled, "That's quite a statement."

"I find it extraordinary that none of you have realized that Skye had doubts about Ward!" Simmons' exclamation cut through the room and Tripp had been wondering when she would reveal what she knew. "She was watching Ward and talking to him in _secret!"_

"Nevermind," Hunter said, taken aback - and he wasn't the only one. "_That's_ quite a statement. What's with all the fuckin' secrets? I thought we were done with that."

Tripp silently agreed but saw Morse nod in agreement with Hunter. "He's right. No disrespect, Simmons, but what are you talking about. Explain."

"Consider that a command from me, Agent Simmons," Coulson interfered, face tense. "You kept this from me."

"I didn't want to break Skye's trust!" Simmons protested before she quieted; she glanced at Tripp and then looked back at Coulson. "Skye explained to me a few days before the transfer how she doubted Ward's monstrosity. She was sneaking into Vault D to speak to the traitor, and Ward… manipulated her; he told her stories of Garrett and she believes he was conditioned like a Pavlovian dog. She was taking his side, brushing aside all the facts, and ignoring evidence!"

Silence.

Morse's eyes narrowed, "Conditioned how? Be more specific than 'a Pavlovian dog,' Simmons."

"Skye said Ward told her he knew Garrett since he was fifteen-years-old, and- "

"_What?"_ Tripp broke in, stunned as memories began to make more sense; the utter reliance Ward seemed to sometimes have on Garrett. "Fifteen? You're sure?"

Simmons glared at him, "It's clearly a lie meant to manipulate Skye, prey on her love for him."

Hunter groaned, "_Shit._ That would've been nice to know. Now I know why she was pacing outside of the bus station! She was _waiting_ for Ward! I knew she used to have a thing for him, everyone did, but I didn't know that she's still in love with him!"

Tripp stared at Coulson; the only reaction the Director displayed was a brief shutting of his eyes. Both May and Morse's features tightened. Mack's eyebrows rose, and Fitz didn't look surprised by the revelation.

"Whatever this is," Coulson said softly but the intensity in his eyes was bright. "I know that Skye isn't at fault. It's Ward; it always has been. Just like Garrett. Ward might be the greatest manipulator I've ever encountered."

Tripp nodded in agreement, but Morse leaned back, startled. "Are you sure, sir? _Romanoff?_ She manipulated Loki. The _god_ of lies. Ward is good, but he's not _that_ good."

Coulson sighed, "I'm firmly convinced that Loki knew Romanoff would visit him to get information, and he manipulated her fear of the Hulk, causing her to pressure Banner until Barton attacked the Helicarrier." Something flashed across the Director's face; it looked like bitterness. "Thus, the Hulk was unleashed and Loki escaped, killing me in the process. I've thought about those events too much. Thor mentioned his age and Loki's age, and no matter Romanoff's skill, she would never be able to manipulate someone who lives by that game who is also nearly a millennium old. No one could. It's _unthinkable._"

His eyes widened at the thought of being nearly a thousand-years-old, and he found he couldn't even fathom it. "Well, whether Ward or Romanoff is better, it doesn't matter. I don't care. We need to figure out what we're going to do."

"_Thank_ you!" Hunter exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't give a rat's ass who's better. Hydra's still at large, and all I know is that Ward shot both me and Bob, and I'm wanting some payback."

Tripp frowned and ignored the pain in his face. "It was with my I.C.E.R., Hunter. The only thing wounded is your pride. That's it."

Hunter's mouth opened and then closed before opening again. "There goes the goodwill I had towards you."

"All I know is that we're alive and not dead," he continued, ignoring the jab. "Knowing what Ward can do, he should have cut through us like cake."

"He did cut through us like cake," Hunter muttered angrily.

"But none of us are _dead,"_ he stared at them, not failing to notice Coulson's heavy frown. "I like breathing. I like _living_. Ward made sure I stayed that way when he didn't have to. My face and skull will heal. My life wouldn't. He intentionally spared all of us; he's not someone who _misses_."

Coulson narrowed his eyes, "Ward didn't miss the guards I assigned to the transfer, Agent Triplet. There were civilians injured from the explosion."

"All I'm saying is that we're alive when we shouldn't be. It's not logical. His illogical actions _weren't_ an accident. I don't like him, but Ward knew exactly what he was doing. I'm a Specialist, too, and every time, the right call in that situation is to permanently eliminate all adversaries; his generosity to all of us is… to use a word already said, unthinkable. Ward didn't have to steal my I.C.E.R. to knock us out; he didn't have to use it when facing Morse and Hunter. Everything he did was _illogical,_ and when I say illogical, I'm talking like Hitler's invasion of the Soviet Union- "

"_Enough._" May hissed and Tripp glanced at her; she was deadly still but he reckoned she would begin vibrating with raw fury any moment now. "Ward got away and we have to find him; he's _taken_ Skye, one of our own. We need to try again. Send more teams to look. More _Agents._"

"Are you _insane?"_ Mack exclaimed and pointed at him; Tripp raised a quizzical brow in response. "I mean, look at Agent Triplet's face! Ward did that to one of the most dangerous people on base. The back of his skull was cracked from the butt of a pistol! The x-rays proved it! Maybe he won't kill them, but he'll do _that_ to every other man you send after him. Not to mention the broken ribs!"

"And as I already explained," Simmons cut in. "Tripp's wound is something which couldn't have resulted from Ward. The strength necessary to apply that level of sustainable damage to a male human skull cannot be done from a peak man with just one single strike - even with the butt of a pistol. It was something else. It must be. Ward is still human."

"Is he?" Morse questioned after a moment, looking pensive; she stared at Hunter. "Did you see him? Did you notice how _fast_ Ward was running when we turned around after he roared 'Hydra'? It wasn't _human._"

Tripp remembered how Ward was able to stand and react perfectly fine despite being shot multiple times in the chest and back. Then there was Ward's reaction to the assassin sent by his brother. What about the family dynamic between the brothers? He couldn't even imagine sending an assassin - _an assassin! _\- after his own brother. While he remembered Ward's words about sparing him only because of Skye, he also knew that if he wanted to, Ward could have killed all the Agents neither of them knew and Skye would have been none the wiser. Tripp could feel the phantom pain in his elbow from where he had tried to strike Ward and while he had connected, it had no effect; it had hurt him more than Ward.

"What are you talking about, Bob?"

"I mean, it was brief, but I've only seen two people move like that; it was from the cursory footage of Captain America and the Winter Soldier's fight on a street before Project Insight. When Tripp woke us up, I retraced Ward's path, and I found the cement _cracked_ in a spider-web fashion at a certain point_._ It was like a footprint caused it."

Tripp noticed he wasn't the only one whose eyebrows rose; Coulson frowned. "Agent Morse, Grant Ward is not a Super-Soldier. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury would have known. _I _would know."

"What if Fury kept it a secret?" Morse challenged, eyes gaining heat. "He was fond of doing that. Secrets are what doomed us to Hydra."

"Ward is _not_ a Super-Soldier, Agent Morse," Coulson argued adamantly; his tone brooked no further argument. "S.H.I.E.L.D. kept extensive records of each Agent's blood and each sample was keenly analyzed."

"I've looked at the blood work _myself,_" Simmons looked irritated, chin tilted up. "There has _never_ been anything shown in Ward's blood work except an extraordinary amount of Mitochondria, which is actually normal for a man of his caliber."

Coulson nodded, "Whatever you saw was a result of your failure, Agent Morse. You failed to kill that son of a bitch and rescue Skye."

Morse looked down, ashamed, and Tripp didn't fail to notice how Hunter glared at Coulson without saying anything. In fact, nobody said anything.

Fitz was the first to speak after several tense moments. "Not Ward… Focus on- on Hydra."

"_Exactly,_" Tripp responded before anyone else. "We're so busy focusing on Ward - one man - that we're beginning to ignore Hydra. We _can't_ do that. Hydra's time _isn't _over."

"Turbo's right. There's not a newer, more dangerous shark - Ward - in the water," Mack nodded in agreement and Tripp shot him a look of thanks. "Hydra's still the deadliest shark in the water."

"Ward… won't hu- hurt Skye," Fitz managed to hold the gaze of everyone. "He- he _loves_ her and- "

"Ward loves _nothing,_" May interrupted coldly; her eyes were dark, furious. "What you mistake for love is an _obsession_. Ward's obsessed with Skye, and it will lead to her death. We have to get her away from him; he killed those Agents during the failed transfer."

Fitz stared back at May and Tripp was impressed; the kid had courage. "Hydra is the… bigger threat."

"Yes," Coulson nodded, trying to conceal his embarrassment but failing. "In my judgment since Ward's escape, Skye has been the priority, and I was blind to her true feelings for Ward. Now that she's with him, perhaps having concocted his escape- "

"Impossible," Morse cut in. "Skye doesn't have the training to pull something like that off; she was just along for the ride."

"Which I regret. I didn't want bloodshed with the transfer. Skye seemed the most satisfying security measure to tame Ward."

"Your observations failed," Simmons looked angry and he was surprised at her outburst; he wasn't the only one. "Bloodshed still happened. Agents were murdered by that monster. Now Ward has Skye! If you were concerned, you should have sedated him!"

"Which wouldn't have worked if Ward's a Super-Soldier," Morse pointed out quietly.

"Ward is _not_ a Super-Soldier," Coulson sounded irritated; he was frowning. "This is the last that I want to hear of it. Agent Simmons, I did fail to think of sedation, but I don't remember you coming to me to report your findings about Skye's _feelings_ for Ward."

Simmons paled, but before she could respond, May did; her eyes were narrow. "Skye came to you and expressed _treachery._ Your failure to report that allowed this to happen."

"She's right, Agent Simmons," Coulson looked disappointed but behind that, there was anger. "You're an accessory to this if Skye… helped Ward escape."

"_You_ shouldn't have…" Fitz blinked and struggled for the word; Tripp didn't fail to notice Simmons' flinch at his struggle. "Ward shouldn't have been given to his ab- _abuser._ Yo- _you_ did this."

Tripp's eyes widened and Coulson looked struck before the infallibility returned. "Would any of you have done it differently?"

"_Damn,_" Hunter groaned, leaning back in his chair. "It's getting hard to breathe with all this bullshit piling up."

Tripp was trained well enough not to react, but he noticed how Mack chuckled and Morse looked at Hunter gratefully.

May leaned forward, "This is _sensitive._ You don't understand- "

"I understand _enough._"

"You _clearly_ don't- "

"Quiet, Agent May," Coulson interrupted, head tilted in consideration. "I believe Agent Hunter wants to say something."

"Just for a bit." Hunter seemed to mentally psych himself up before he leaned forward, eyes teeming with vitality. "A little secrets are good, absolutely, but this is ridiculous. We're all adults, right? All over twenty-one? We all look like it, but I'm making sure because these last few minutes, you've been some thorough bullshitters."

"Your _point?"_ May asked quietly; it was disconcerting. "Spit it out."

"If we're all over twenty-one, we should know _better!"_ Hunter exclaimed and Tripp couldn't have said it better; he nearly applauded. "We're supposed to hold intelligent conversations and figure out what we need to do! Instead, we're jumping like fuckin' kangaroos all over the place! Stop arguing and tell us what we need to do! I don't _care_ why you put Skye on that transfer, sir. All I care about is that Ward escaped and shot me and Bob. But beyond that, _Hydra's _still out there. What the hell are we doing? I'd love to put a bullet between Ward's eyes, but we're stretched too thin to go after him and Skye. Not now. Not when he's disappeared like a guy owing a pimp."

"Skye is _not_ a hooker!" May snapped, "Ward's manipulating her."

"Those were your words not mine," Hunter shrugged. "No one said hooker except you. I was implying that Ward kidnapped her."

"It was a poorly-timed analogy," Morse said. "But I understood what you meant."

"Thank you!"

Coulson stared at Hunter for several seconds before nodding slowly. "This is when I hate being Director. I'm forced to make these impossible decisions."

"That's not an answer," Morse observed softly. "I assume it's the beginning of one."

"We will still look for Ward, but the focus… will be on Hydra." Tripp closed his eyes in relief and opened them again when Coulson continued. "We failed Skye, and while Fitz was correct in pointing out that Ward will not hurt Skye physically, I worry about what he'll do to her emotionally."

"I taught Skye control," May was blank; he couldn't tell what she was feeling. "While she failed to eradicate her misplaced affection for Ward, she won't break. I taught her well, and she was a good student."

Simmons swallowed, "Skye's strong. She… loves Ward - why, I can't fathom - but she'll get away from him. I'm certain. Then we can rescue her without the threat of Ward murdering everyone."

"Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way," Hunter stretched his arms. "Now what's the plan to stop Hydra. What have we got?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye stared out the window; they were near to wherever it was that Ward had determined his brother was at. She tried to narrow down her emotions and all she knew for sure was the gaping wariness and fear for the inevitable. A showdown between the two brothers would commence and she had no idea how it was going to go, or what would even happen.

"You'd think a politician - a Senator, for that matter - wouldn't want to reveal that his own brother is Hydra," Skye suddenly muttered in bemusement, cutting through the silence. "Maybe that's what he's going for: An honest man."

Ward snorted and she turned to look at him; his eyes were on the road and since he had trimmed his hair and shaved the beard until it was more of a scruff, he looked more recognizable. "There's nothing honest about Christian. It doesn't even matter that he revealed it, not for him. I told you: His words have an effect on people, and… you can't _resist_."

"What are you going to do?"

"Talk to him."

"_Talk?"_ She echoed, shocked; she hadn't expected that.

"Christian sent an assassin after me, so he wants me dead. Then there's what he said on the radio; my name is floating in every American's mind because of him, and it floats in disgust. He murdered Thomas and tortured me for years. I'd like to… kill him, but I need the truth about my childhood. I can't remember as much as I should. Christian's the only one who… will tell me what I can't remember. What can't I remember that makes me such a threat to him?"

Skye licked her lips, "Do you think you… _blocked_ it out?"

"I blocked it out for fifteen years. It was _locked down_ until that fucking Asgardian staff. Ever since, those memories have… they've been stuck in the open. They won't leave me alone, and even with all my considerable training, I can't force them away. I thought I had everything, but… I don't. There are a lot of things I don't remember, Skye. I just realized it. When I saw the assassin's face, which wasn't even a face but a seared wound, I… _knew_ him."

"Was he Hydra?" That was the only thing she could think of, "Maybe you saw him some time- "

"_No._ When I saw that mass of scorched flesh, I saw flashes of my childhood. Things I had never seen before; they were long-dormant and awakened when I saw that face. It… was like looking through a foggy window; nothing was clear, but it was enough. They were blurry _fragments._ I need to know, to understand. Because without it, I'm just a hollow shell who doesn't own those memories."

Skye intimately understood the need to know the truth, to understand; she silently wondered how complex the situation revolving around Ward would get until it lessened. "I'll help you."

"Why?"

"I believe you," she shrugged. "Even though you kidnapped me, I believe you."

Ward hummed thoughtfully, "I'm thankful for that. I knew you would eventually understand, but I feared when you woke up after the transfer you wouldn't be as… pleasant. I'm glad I was wrong."

"I'm still _angry_," she reminded him, "but it's not what it was. It's like… the concrete cracked or something."

"Cement. It's the Eighth Wonder of the World. That's what John always said; it's putty between your fingers, but when you add sand, gravel, and water, it can stop a truck in its tracks."

Skye closed her eyes, trying to keep that anger at bay; she would never get away from the memory of Garrett! "Would you stop talking about Garrett like he- he's a genius like, I don't know, _Napoleon_ or something? You may have loved him, but I _didn't._"

Ward glanced at her, "Napoleon had a great military, tactical mind, but he was _blinded_ by ambition_._ Russia doomed him."

"He made a mistake," she stared at him in confusion; she hadn't expected that to come out of his mouth. When would she learn it was impossible to predict Ward? "It happens."

"It _can't_ happen. Not in the world of powerful men. Not to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or even Hydra." Ward's voice softened slightly, "Do you know how those mistakes happen, Skye?"

"From being lazy?"

"Pride. The most subtle yet dangerous of the Seven Deadly Sins."

She refrained from pointing out Garrett's, and even Ward's, obvious pride. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ethics are going to prevent that from happening aga- "

"It didn't last time, but what good are ethics if you're too dead to live by them?" Skye froze at his words, inherently understanding his meaning. "Get out of S.H.I.E.L.D., Skye. It will kill you, and I _don't_ want that to happen. Not to you."

"I'm out right now," she tried to smile. "I chose to help you. I'm going with you to _your brother._ I want to get to the bottom of this. None of it's making sense."

"How do you think I feel?" The words were bordering on sarcastic and she enjoyed it. "I need to know about my past. Only then can I move forward. We'll do it together."

"Is that what this is?" Skye challenged, sudden doubt screaming at her. Was he using her? "I help you, you help me?"

"We both have questions about our pasts," he responded calmly; damn him and his calmness! "I didn't think I did until… the assassin, but you've always had questions. We're going to find those answers and solve the enigmas of our pasts."

"Like a mathematician?"

The question, shockingly, made him chuckle and it was a pleasant sound; his arm moved and her eyes followed the movement. The jacket inched upward above his wrists and she stared uncomprehendingly at the place where an angry scar should be; it wasn't there! For several seconds, she didn't breathe, suspended in a moment of disbelief until she blinked, awareness dawning on her.

"Yo- your wrists," she pointed at the smooth skin dumbly. "_What?"_

Ward sighed, "I wasn't going to bring it up, but… I promised not to lie to you."

"Yo- you had _scars!"_ Skye stared at his hair and noticed that there was no scar anymore. "What the _hell,_ Ward?"

"I wish I knew. It happened during the transfer. It was the adrenaline rush; something was _different,_ and ever since, I've been stronger, faster, more durable, and I heal _fast. _I probably should've died from those wounds the assassin dealt me, but I healed. My body _pushed_ the bullets out."

Skye's breathing intensified and she shut her eyes, shakily trying to grasp at what she knew; right now, she knew nothing. "_Explain_ it to me. Like I'm a- a child. What's going on? I saw your scars! Yo- you tried to- to _kill _yourself!"

"Apparently, I wasn't running hard enough," the bitter words caused her to flinch but he continued more calmly. "I don't know much more than you. Perhaps less. It happened on the transfer; they were about to kill me, and for the first time since before my imprisonment, I felt the adrenaline. But it was different. Something… rose inside, and I felt stronger. I saw the scars on my wrists just… disappear. Then I got out of the cuffs and attacked. All my wounds from bullets have healed when they should take _weeks._ I think… Coulson did something to me, authorized _experimentation._ It's the only thing that makes sense."

"_None _of it makes sense!" Skye exclaimed, mind rebelling; she wouldn't believe it, but Ward's wrists were unblemished, and she suddenly remembered how he had gained muscle during his imprisonment despite minimal consumption of food. "Did you feel… I don't know, different before the transfer?"

"No. I'm telling you, it was the _adrenaline._ That's what did it; it was the _catalyst_."

Skye floundered for something else; this was insane! "Is it th- the _staff?_ The Asgardian one?"

"No. This is different_._ _Better_. The staff, it felt like acid burning through my veins; it _hurt._ Right now, it's nothing like that. It feels _good._ I feel better than I ever have." Ward held up his hand and Skye's mouth closed; he pointed out the window to the cabin in the distance visible just past the trees. "There it is. We're getting out here."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Leaves crunched beneath her feet and she had no idea how Ward was walking silently; he was gliding across the leaves soundlessly and even though she tried her best, she couldn't replicate his performance.

"What the _hell?"_ Skye finally demanded, "How are you doing that? Are you floating or something?"

Ward didn't look at her; he seemed distracted, something she hadn't thought possible. "Practice. I've had lots of practice in the woods."

Skye swallowed and kept quiet at the reminder of his living in the woods of Wyoming for several moments. "And practice makes perfect, right?"

"No. Practice makes permanent. Only perfect practice makes perfect."

"_What?"_

"John taught me that."

She closed her eyes and remained patient, but why did Ward have to always mention Garrett? Didn't he realize that she hated that monster? Skye forcefully reminded herself that it would take more than a few conversations to undo fifteen years' worth of lessons and conditioning.

"Isn't it exhausting to always be perfect, though?" She asked instead, peering at his form. "I mean, I know it would be for me."

Ward finally looked at her; his eyes were curious, amused. "I've built an endurance for it."

Skye couldn't keep her lips from pulling into a smile. "Who knew you had a sense of humor?"

"I wasn't joking."

She blinked, but upon seeing the subtle quirk of his lips, she laughed in amazement. "Out of all the things I've learned about you since… you know, the Hydra reveal, this is my favorite. You're not a robot," her voice softened. "You _feel_ things deeply."

"Yeah," his words were soft but she was dismayed to see all his humor vanish; she mentally kicked herself, but before she could try to coax it back, Ward stopped. "Here we are."

It was a beautiful landscape and Skye felt the wind rustle her hair; the air was crisp, refreshing, and trees swayed gently. The cabin stood before them and the way that Ward stared at it caught her eye; his gorgeous eyes were hazy.

"Ha- have you been here before?" Skye asked softly; she turned to face him, unsure. "Do you know- "

"It's my family's summer place," he answered quietly, staring at the cabin, and she had no idea what he was feeling. "I haven't been here since Thomas died."

"When did he… die? How old were you?"

"Twelve. It's been eighteen years since I saw him. Since Christian murdered him here," he looked lifeless, his voice was hollow and Skye stiffened, suddenly realizing this was where Thomas Ward had died as a child. She felt helpless, didn't know what to do; she inched closer but didn't dare touch him, remembering some of the kids at St. Agnes reacting poorly when they were lost in memories. Knowing how dangerous and vicious Ward could be, she wasn't going to take her chances. "I remember his voice."

She smiled, "That's go- "

"While he was drowning, he was begging for help," he interrupted in a daze and Skye, forgoing her earlier conclusion, grabbed his limp hand; she was more concerned when he didn't even react. "It was weak. I could barely hear it, but it was enough. I think he was crying, but it might have been the water. Maybe it was me who was crying. I tried to get him the rope… but I wasn't fast enough. By the time it touched his pale hand, he wasn't moving; he was face-down."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pained by what he was telling her; she knew her imagination was nothing in comparison to the real thing. "Do- do you want to go inside?"

Ward finally reacted and she squeezed his hand. "I want to burn it down."

Skye nodded, not sure she felt surprise or not. "Well, your brother's coming here, right?"

"Yes. He's predictable. When I called his Senate Office, they said he was taking a few days off. I know he'll be coming here."

"Do you want to wait outside, or do you want to go inside? It might be easier to surprise him by going inside."

"Let's go," Ward walked towards the cabin and she followed.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye stood inside the cabin, alone, exploring what she could find. It was even more beautiful on the inside and for the first time in a long time, she remembered that Ward had grown up with money; his family was rich! And the saying was true: Money can't buy happiness. Ward had vanished within moments of entering the cabin, and there was a small part of her that feared he would set the cabin ablaze; there was a bigger part that, to her surprise, trusted him.

She stared at the few pictures and stared at the unfamiliar faces until she finally saw the Senator; he looked cold. Skye shuddered and moved to a different room, shamelessly taking in all she could; maybe she would understand what it was to be rich. The large leather armchair was planted in front of the massive television, and it wasn't what she had expected; it was like the rest of the cabin: Rustic. Shockingly, it wasn't sleek surfaces and high-tech; it was a blur of red and brown. The furniture was dark and the curtains checkered; it was clearly a man's cabin in the woods. From what she had gathered, the only person using the cabin anymore was the Senator, so… maybe he was overcompensating for something.

The only thing missing was weapons; no antiques or current models. Apparently, the Senator never felt concern for his safety at the cabin, but why would he? He was a United States Senator.

Skye looked around one last time and when she turned around, her breath hitched when Ward stared at her, leaning against the wall.

"Don't do _that!" _She held a hand to her chest; she should be better than that! Nobody should be able to sneak up on her, but she supposed Ward would always be able to do it. "You're… ghost-like."

"A necessary characteristic in Specialists." Ward tried to smile and while she was sure it would fool anyone else, she knew better; he looked tense. "Nothing's really changed. There are a few things. There's a new add-on, but other than that, nothing."

She suddenly saw the shovel leaning against the wall in his shadow. "Why do you have that?"

"When we came through the woods, the well wasn't there." Skye's eyes widened at the news that she had been near the location of Thomas Ward's murder. "It must have been buried. Christian's going to dig it up for us."

Foreboding hissed in her ears and she ignored it. "Do you think he'll tell you everything?"

"He will; he won't be able to resist. He'll tell me everything I want to know if it's painful. If he doesn't, I'm sure the inversion of the situation will not be lost on him."

Skye frowned, "Meaning?"

"I'm the one in power here; he'll be the one who's _weak._"

Before she could respond, she heard the sound of a car approaching; she went to the window and she was right. All was silent as the black SUV, one which looked suspiciously like S.H.I.E.L.D.'s, stopped in front of the cabin. Five guards exited and surrounded the vehicle.

Skye stared down at the vantage from the window. "What do you want to do?"

Ward peered out the window from above her. "Since they're Hydra, I'll let you decide."

His words floated in the air and her lips parted. "They're _Hydra?"_ She whispered, astonished. "How do you know?"

"The stances. Look at the weapons, formation; it's standard."

"But… _what?"_

Ward looked down at her, "Why would it surprise you that Christian's Hydra? Like brother, like brother, right?" He muttered bitterly. "Isn't that how it goes?"

"No, _no._ I just… Coulson seemed so sure."

"Coulson's going insane, Skye. He can't think clearly. That's not a change because he never could, but that's beside the point."

"What are you talking about?" She demanded, trying to keep her voice calm, "What do you mean?"

"The GH-325. It fucked John up and it's starting to do the same to Coulson. I don't know why it took so long, but what goes around comes around."

"How is he going insane?" Skye began to worry because she had no idea; she knew that he was acting strangely, but not insane! What had Ward seen that she hadn't? "What's happening? Tell me."

"I only have experience with John to base it on, but when I brought it up to Coulson, his reaction told me everything. He's doing the same thing as John: Drawing random shit on the walls, and sooner or later, he won't make sense."

Skye gasped, "_Why_ didn't you tell me? He needs help!"

"I thought you knew."

"Well, I _didn't!"_

"That's Coulson's fault, and forgive me if I don't feel helpful towards the bastard who tried to _sell_ me back to Christian to be executed."

"_What?"_

"I talked to Tripp; he revealed Coulson suspected my fate would be a public execution, but I was still shipped away like a dog."

She bit her lip, his anger tangible, and she felt it slamming against her in waves of unbearable force; she changed the topic, intending to eventually return to it. "How did you _not_ know your brother was Hydra?" She couldn't comprehend that fact with what she knew about Ward. "I mean, you know everything about him except _that?"_

Ward was tense and when she looked up at him, she frowned when he was looking to their right, at the wall; he looked betrayed and angry. "John… kept it from me."

She went silent at his words, the admission of betrayal; maybe he'd understand how she and the team felt. "What do you want to do?"

"Start the reunion," he whirled around and marched out of the room, snatching the shovel in a smooth motion.

Skye hurried after his rapid pace, going down the stairs and they didn't exit out the front; they used the back. Ward twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open; it swung slowly on rusty hinges and he marched past it. She followed him and the wind whipped into her face and she hastily wiped it away, wishing she had a gun; she trusted Ward, but didn't want to have the risk of being defenseless against Hydra guards.

How had Coulson failed to realize that the Senator was Hydra?

Ward was silent in front of her as he marched and if she closed her eyes, regardless that she was certain he was in front of her, Skye would have no idea that he was actually there; he paused at the edge of the house and pulled out his gun.

Skye placed a frantic hand on his arm. "_Wait. _Don't kill them."

"Why?" He stared down at her, "They're Hydra. They're guarding _Satan._ That makes them demons."

She swallowed, "Remember what you told me in the car? People had good reasons for joining Hydra? Well, I doubt these guys know they're guarding Satan."

Something in Ward seemed to relax, "You're learning. That's good. I was tired of hearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. rhetoric."

"You were right. It's naive to think of every member of Hydra as evil. Only the Hydra Heads are evil."

"There are a few more than that," he commented idly before turning back to the SUV. "I don't have explosives. You should know that. Besides, I don't want to create a scene yet. That will be at the end. Stop questioning me."

Skye frowned, staring at him in utter confusion. "_What?_ When did explosives come into play? And I'm not questioning you."

Ward stiffened and she had never seen him look so tight; he looked coiled like a snake. "Sorry. I was thinking aloud."

She blinked but before she could call him out on the lie - _he had lied to her!_ \- Ward descended past the edge and dashed forward; her breath caught at how fast - _it wasn't human!_ \- he ran and lashed out at the first guard. He was lethal beyond any animal as his foot smashed into the guard, causing him to buckle, and in one smooth motion, while the guard instinctively leaned down, Ward drove his elbow into the center of the back. The guard crashed into the ground, lying unconscious, and Skye swallowed, suddenly feeling unsure.

The rest of the guards all appeared but Ward spun around and the I.C.E.R. was in his hand; the other guards were taken out in seconds, unable to get their own shot off. Skye stepped forward and Ward didn't even seem to know she was there; she followed him as he went around the car. Then he casually, but the sheer violence of the act was in no way diminished, dug his fingers into the car door; to her amazement, he grunted and ripped the door off.

His arm surged forward like a battering ram and suddenly, Ward yanked back. A man was viciously ripped out of the car's gaping wound and Skye winced as he was flung into the ditch, body tumbling and rolling, colliding with jaded-looking rocks. The man turned over with a groan and she had her first up-close look at Christian Ward; she immediately saw the resemblance and wondered what secrets that head held.

Ward smiled down at his brother, but it sent shivers down her spine; it was such a cold, deadly smile. "Hey, big _brother,_" he opened his arms charmingly but all Skye saw was an opening to the terrible abyss of Asgardian-fueled hatred and rage. "Heard you wanted to see me. Here I am."

Skye suddenly realized how bad of an idea this was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Christian stared up at him, dark suit illuminated in the dry grass, eyes blazing. "I wish you were a ghost; it'd be _less_ haunting."

"Try again," Grant wondered if this was how it felt: To be the one in power over your brother. It felt amazing. "You were always good with words. That talent hasn't faded, _Senator._ Give me your best."

"Let's talk about this, Grant," Christian groaned and gingerly crawled to his feet; Grant allowed him to. "Together, we can think of something better than _kidnapping_ a Senator."

"No need. I'm going to be doing a lot more than kidnapping."

"And who have you dragged into this delusional vendetta?" Christian stared at Skye, false sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry he's done this to you… What's your name?"

"Don't answer that!" Grant snapped, "Ignore him!"

Christian smiled, "_Tell me._ What's your name?"

Skye blinked, "My name's Skye."

"You need to leave, Skye," Christian urged and Grant paled when he saw Skye stiffen; she looked unsure.

"Don't listen to him!" He roared and harshly drove the heel of his palm into Christian's nose; his brother collapsed and hissed. "Whatever you do, don't listen to him. I _told _you_._ His words get stuck in your head. Go inside!"

"No." Christian stood back to his feet, wiping his eyes. "Actually, I changed my mind. _Stay_, Skye. I'd love to get to know you better. Understand what you're doing with Grant."

Skye didn't go inside, staring at him, and Grant felt his control of the situation fleeing - _fuck!_ \- just as it always had when he was that weak child.

"_Looks like your girl's falling under mean older brother's spell."_ John was ecstatic, _"She's betraying you! Kill her, son! Now's your chance. You can blame it on- "_

"I'll be okay, Ward," she reassured; at least she sounded confident. "I know what I'm doing."

"_Oh, she really doesn't,_" John laughed and Grant grabbed the shovel and smacked the back of Christian's leg; he buckled down to one knee and Grant kicked him down the ditch, John's voice continuing. _"This is the maiden caught between two Dragons! When will the knight save her?"_

"I knew you'd be coming after you escaped the transfer, but I didn't think this soon." Why did it feel like Christian, despite being the weak one, was the one in control? "You accumulated quite the reputation, Grant. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. visited me and _oh,_ he hates you. Isn't that unifying emotion of everyone you meet? Mom and Dad hated you. I hate you. Ruth hates you. Thomas hated yo- "

"Shut up!" Grant descended down the ditch and grabbed Christian's shoulder; he dug his fingers into the flesh but only was given a mocking smile in response. Why weren't muscles, bones, and tendons rupturing from his newfound, strange strength? He brushed it off and dimly heard Skye following him; she remained quiet. "_Move. _We're going on a little trip."

"Those weapons in your pockets make you brave now, don't they?" Christian chuckled and it sounded so practiced, false, "Never thought I'd see the day."

"This might be the last day you ever see if you don't shut up," he hissed, shoving him forward. "I'm not that _weak_ kid anymore. I'm bigger than you now. You don't loom over me anymore. I'm in control now; I'm _stronger._"

Christian raised a mocking eyebrow, "I think you'll find I'm full of surprises, Grant."

"_Move him along,"_ John ordered. _"He's just stalling for time. There's probably some kind of back-up."_

Grant pulled out his gun and pointed it at Christian's skull. "Get going. We've got places to be, _Senator._ As you used to say, there's something with your name on it."

"_Ward!"_ Skye hissed but she paused when both Grant and Christian turned to look at her; she blinked and seemed to lose her train of thought, but he was wrong. "Grant, think about what you're doing."

"_Listen_ to her," Christian whispered enticingly and the words from his childhood swarmed his mind. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Grant's teeth gnashed together; he smacked the butt of the pistol across Christian's face. "Wrong phrase! Let's go. _Move!"_

Christian spit out blood but didn't seem too affected by his pistol-whip, and he ignored the foreboding as they started walking. "You're much more assertive than I thought. I'm impressed."

He heard Skye swallow but kept his eyes on Christian. "Wa- _Grant,_ are you sure about this?"

"_She's taking his side!"_ John roared, _"She'll betray you for him! End the threat she represents now: Your weakness!"_

"How long have you been in Hydra?" Grant asked instead as they kept walking, keeping the gun trained on Christian's skull. "I'm not surprised. You were always fanatical. You fit right in with Von Strucker and what I've heard about Malick."

"We've always been in Hydra, Grant," Christian answered, looking at him, eyes gleaming with hidden knowledge; he needed to know! "Don't you remember?"

Grant inhaled slowly; the Asgardian rage was so close. "Refresh my memory; remind me. Let's call it a test."

"We both know it's much _more_ than that."

He pulled out the I.C.E.R., prepared to knock him out, and drag him to the well, but Skye spoke suddenly. "What's your role in Hydra? What are you hiding? What did you mean by always?"

"I'm going to be the next President. Everyone knows it. I'll pass new legislation to- "

Grant looked at John, who shrugged. _"Don't look at me. If you hadn't failed to save me, you could ask the real thing."_

"- better. I would change the world. Billions would look to me for guidance."

"You've always had a way with words, haven't you?" Grant leaned closer to Christian; he knew how to anger him. "You're just like Mother."

Christian stiffened and his eyes sparked with fury; it was authentic. The facade of the politician broke and the familiar malignity from his childhood was revealed; it was like a black hole. Christian snarled and rushed forward, lunging at him, hands extended like malicious claws.

"_Amateur,_" John scoffed. _"I picked the right Ward."_

He lashed his foot upward and it caught Christian's exposed kidney; simultaneously, he drove the side of his palm into the base of the neck. Christian gasped pathetically and lurched downward, falling to the grass, splayed in the dirt. Grant hammered his foot into the head, demanding silence, showing his dominance.

When he turned to look at Skye, he paused at the shock displayed on her beautiful face; at least it wasn't horror or revulsion. He couldn't describe his relief that she was still by his side; all he knew was that he needed her presence to keep calm while facing Christian.

"_At least she can handle some blood,_" John was reluctant, a sour look on his face. _"It means she's not pregnant."_

"You should be _dead!"_ Christian pathetically stood to his feet, glaring at him. "I saw the picture, and how I wished it a reality for so long, but I always knew! You're a _cockroach;_ you always were. You'd never stay down."

Grant stared at him, "Picture?"

"A single photograph mailed to the house. It was after you disappeared from the Juvenile Detention Center. Your corpse was shown, ridden with bullet holes." Grant blinked, having no idea what Christian was talking about, and he noticed that Skye stared, wide-eyed and lips parted in shock. "You were laid on the ground, eyes open; the holes in your forehead and throat were still bleeding. Mom and Dad never reported the death, and we were _thankful._ You were a nuisance, an unstable idiot full of rage. Thankfully, everyone forgot you existed, but I never did. I always feared that you would return to haunt me, and here you are, delusional and enraged as ever. You've burned me too many times. You ruin _everything._ You don't know the plans in motion! I'm _needed!"_

Skye looked speechless when Grant glanced at her; he considered Christian. "Only a single picture? Good memory."

"You've caused me _pain_ in ways you can't remember. Nobody but you has ever done that."

"I'm flattered," he drawled, not believing a word of it. "If I'm such a threat, why didn't you kill me in Hydra? You would have had men at your bidding thanks to that silver tongue of yours."

"I never knew if you were you," Christian shrugged but it was controlled, intentional. "I knew that John Garrett, one of the Hydra Heads, had a golden protege named Grant Ward, but that's it. You looked similar to me and our father, but the blood work turned up negative every time, and you never showed the signs. Whitehall theorized that Garrett recruited some kid and forced him to have facial reconstruction until he resembled the missing Grant Ward. It wasn't until Phil Coulson showed up in my office and mentioned the well that I knew my brother had been hidden under my nose for years."

"And you _acted,_" he snarled. Grant's body shook and suddenly, he crushed the I.C.E.R. in his other hand, his grip a compactor. He stared at the mangled I.C.E.R., disbelief surging forward; he numbly dropped the unusable weapon and saw Skye's stunned look.

"_Get your head out of your ass!"_ John exploded, face red. _"Focus on the enemy!"_

Grant shook himself, glaring at his brother, who didn't look surprised at all by his strength. What did he know? "You tried to have me killed! You sent that scar-faced assassin after me! He almost hit Skye!"

"Do you forget burning the house down?" Christian roared, eyes wide and furious; he looked wild, nothing like the facade of a Senator he played at. "I was inside! You _knew_ it!"

"_Does a bear shit in the woods?"_ John asked sarcastically but he ignored him.

"After Ruth called me in tears!" Grant roared back, smashing the shovel across Christian's back; it slashed along flesh and blood bubbled. "She told me what happened!"

Christian hissed, his back muscles tensing, blood streaming into the dark fabric of his suit. "The black sheep of the family! Out of all of us, Ruth was the _exception._ At least Thomas, for all his frailty, had a tongue!"

"You're about to lose yours!"

"Not very hero-like," Christian stopped walking and turned towards him. "You're still that same _kid._ Wanting to be the hero, the protector. Why else is Skye here? From what are you trying to save her? You want to be that hero, Grant. You always have. You say you're not that weak kid anymore, but you only say that to help you sleep. We _both_ know- "

"You're putting thoughts into my head," he shoved Christian forward. "It's not going to work. Keep trying, though. I'm _enjoying_ this. Your words don't hurt anymore; they're not going to stick. What are you without your words, Christian? What would happen if I cut out that forked tongue of yours? It's all you have. How _pathetic._"

"And what are you without _death?"_ Christian stubbornly held firm, refusing to walk. "It follows you everywhere like Thomas used to. It's _your_ shadow! Everything you've done is on your head, Grant. Don't blame _me_ for anything. You had a choice!"

"I blame you for _Thomas!"_ Grant stepped closer and brutally shoved the gun inside Christian's mouth, dislodging several teeth; rivers of blood steamed past the gun and onto his fingers. "You hollowed me out, tore me down. Just like _Mother!_ I should've blown the back of your head off instead of burning the house down! A mistake I'll amend now!"

"STOP!" Skye screamed and Grant froze; his eyes slowly found her fearful ones and he felt ashamed. She placed a quivering hand on his vibrating arm, "Grant, don't do this. _Think._ I don't know what you're feeling, but you know this isn't the right decision. You… won't get answers if he's… dead."

"_Aww, that bitch!"_ John groaned, _"She ruins everything! Why don't you blow the back of her head off, son? Then do mean older brother's!"_

Grant stepped back, taking the gun out, ignoring Christian spitting out teeth; the blood leaked out of his brother's mouth, dripping off his chin. "Who was the scar-faced assassin you sent after me? He failed."

"_Obviously,"_ Christian spat out one last tooth, the remaining teeth in his mouth blood-stained. "Jasper. He gladly volunteered for the task; he's been wanting to kill you for twenty years."

"Why?"

"You burned his face off; it's a miracle he survived and retained his great eyesight. I never forgot that. You did - for obvious reasons."

"_Not_ obvious!" Grant snarled, "Who was he? Why did I _know_ him? Why did I… burn him?"

"He hit Thomas," Christian smirked and the memory of that same smirk sparked his rage; he knew the answers! "I guess you felt territorial, for no one else could hit Thomas but yo- "

"That wasn't _me!_ It was you!" Grant pointed the gun at his skull, "You're not putting thoughts in my head, not anymore. What else? Why did I know him? Why did he know me and Thomas?"

"Jasper helped raise you and Thomas while Mom and Dad were away; he was our butler, a former brilliant soldier who was forced out of the military with a dishonorable discharge for exterminating Soviet Agents when he wasn't supposed to."

"_The Communists,"_ John nodded slowly. _"I told you how it goes, didn't I? If you kill a Commie, Christ will smile down on you. You probably did this Jasper a favor; he's in Heaven now."_

"You once told him to have sex with himself after he yelled at Thomas," Christian continued. "Even I thought that was amusing. Probably the only time I ever felt fond of you. He was devastated when we received the photograph of your corpse because he wanted to be the one who killed you; it's all he's ever wanted since you took his face. When Phil Coulson notified me of your existence, Jasper was beside himself with joy."

"And you gave him a message."

"I meant every word."

"I'm sure you did. Was there anything you forgot to mention?"

"I should have smothered you in the crib."

Grant snorted, feeling a sense of twisted amusement. "You've wanted me dead for a long time. I feel the same about you."

"But you killed Jasper instead."

"He was brave until his final breath," he mocked. "He was a warm-up to the real thing: _You._ It's what was always going to happen."

Christian chuckled and it sounded rehearsed, "Death has a particular odor and I smell it on you; it's seeped in your flesh."

"And yours," he noticed where they were, and stared at Christian, anticipation pounding through his veins. "I know what I am. I take responsibility for my actions. I always have. Now it's your turn." Grant checked the shovel into Christian's chest and pointed to where the well used to be. "Start digging."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye couldn't stand still; she felt anxious, nervous. It couldn't be helped, especially with the way Ward was murderously glaring at the Senator; the silence seemed to flow toward him, gathering inside, strengthening his spirit as he stood taller, broader. The woods seemed to bow to him, recognizing his supremacy, and as the shovel connected to the earth, the wind bristled against her hair; she could hear the phantom echoes of a child drowning, thrashing in churning water but eventually succumbing to death's relentless chase. She was a bystander and couldn't change that; her mind was still reeling from everything Ward and the Senator had viciously spewed at each other. Answers had been given, but more questions had popped up.

What had she been thinking of going along with this?

The Senator looked up, tossing the dirt from the shovel to the beginnings of a small pile to the side; not much progress had been made. "This is pointless. You already blame me for what happened here, twisting the events so that they will match your perceived reality, but it's all a _lie._ That's all you ever do, Grant: _Lie._ These lies have been built up in your mind for fifteen years! _You lie!"_

Skye froze, doubt screeching at her, warning her; the words slithered in her ears and coiled around her mind, penetrating into the deepest recesses of her unconscious. It was painful, the words echoing in her mind with the force of ringing bells; she nearly wavered on her feet, the piercing words too much.

"I want the _truth,_" Ward responded, staring at his brother with an expression so dark and cold it belonged at the bottom of the ocean. "I want you to admit it. Not to me, but to yourself."

"_Exactly._ You're lying right now," the Senator raised the shovel and pointed it at Ward condemningly. "You want validation through my evinced reaction and words. You don't care about me admitting anything to myself - and there's _nothing_ to admit, Grant!"

"All these words, and you're trying to get in my head, but it's not going to work. I was once convinced they were my thoughts, but they were always yours. You're Satan."

The Senator glared at Ward, "I'd always wondered how far your delusions went. That tells me enough. You're _insane,_ Grant. You need help."

"I need nothing but the truth. The well- "

"The well's _gone!" _The Senator shouted and Skye inherently believed him. "Mom and Dad buried it before they died. There's _nothing._"

Ward froze and Skye suddenly realized that he hadn't known that his parents were dead, but if he was so obsessive, how didn't he know? "They're gone? When?"

"Years ago. It was an accident."

Skye thought she knew how Ward was feeling but she was wrong when he snarled. "You're _lying. _You killed them, didn't you? Finally learned to do things yourself?"

The Senator's jaw clenched, "You would accuse me- "

"_Yes!_ I know you. Admit it! You killed them and Thomas! It's a wonder Ruth and I are still alive!"

Ruth? Skye frowned; was that the name of his sister?

"_You killed Thomas,_ Grant! You drowned him in that well. I found his body hours later! You enjoyed it!"

Skye felt faint as the words pounded at her like a vortex of sunlight, illuminating the truth in the foggy darkness; Ward had lied to her. The Senator had never murdered Thomas; it was Ward!

Suddenly, Ward roared like a beast and jammed his pistol unevenly into his holster. Then, as had happened earlier, he dashed forward faster than she thought possible; he picked up the Senator and spun around, flinging him through a tree - _a tree!_ \- and Skye watched in slow-motion as the tree toppled backward, branches groaning in the breeze, and it landed with a deafening _thud_, fallen leaves exploding in an outward wave. She stared at the impossible sight of the Senator standing up with a snarl, looking mostly unharmed.

What the hell? He was thrown through a tree, but was somehow fine!

"_Liar!"_ Ward hissed, "That's all you are! Mom and Dad cut corners; they always took the easiest path if they could. They didn't bury the well; they covered it up. You're going to uncover it."

The Senator sprung forward with nearly as great speed as Ward had shown - _what the hell was happening?_ \- and with the shovel in hand, flung it forward like a deadly spear. Ward easily moved out of the way and met his brother, overwhelming him with strikes so fast Skye was certain she missed several. The Senator buckled to his knees but dove forward, tackling Ward back; the pistol jerked out of the holster on Ward's side and crashed into the leaves. Skye numbly watched the brothers roll and thrash, dirt smeared into their snarling faces; they looked like two lions duking it out for control.

When the Senator was thrown back again, he looked up, wiping the blood from his mouth. "It must be killing you," he smiled and it was so unnatural, stained with blood; it was his real smile. "The fact that it was _me _who got you out of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You got me out of _nothing_. I could have escaped whenever I wanted."

"Then why didn't you?" The Senator tapped his swollen cheek and to look human, he would have to try harder. "What kept you?" Ward didn't say anything but the Senator slowly turned to her; she stiffened, those cold eyes trapping her. "So _that's_ what this is? This is Skye's role? She's who captured you? Made you feel? How _simple_."

Skye swallowed, "Wha- what's that supposed to mean?"

"Men use the image of female perfection to motivate themselves, Skye. Grant has used your perceived perfection to fight on, to come so far as to face _me. _You, a mere manifestation of a judgmental ideal, kept him at S.H.I.E.L.D. for months; you anchored him to imprisonment. Grant's trying to make himself worthy of your love. How chivalrous, Grant, but sadly for you, Camelot fell long ago."

Ward inhaled deeply, and didn't look at her even though she was peering at him; was the Senator right? It sure felt like it. "There is no perfection. Not in this world. If there is, then man beats it out of you when you're a child. I know her faults just as I know mine. But we're not here about that. We're here for your faults. You're going to give me my answers. Your reckoning is here. As is my vengeance for Thomas."

"_You_ _murdered_ _Thomas,_ not me."

"I was so weak if I never noticed your blatant manipulation. Your words don't work on me. Not anymore."

The Senator frowned before coldly smiling. "They won't work on you, but they'll work on her," his cold eyes latched onto hers once again and she felt powerless. "_Grab the gun,_ Skye."

Before she understood what she was doing, she knelt and picked up the gun, feeling her fingers wrap around it steadily.

Ward's jaw clenched, "Give me the gun, Skye."

"_No,_ Skye," the Senator simply said and Skye knew she couldn't give the gun to Ward even though she wanted to; it was insane! "I'll kill her, Grant. You know I will. All it takes is a few words and she'll die. _Put the gun to your head_, Skye_."_

Skye, not of her own will, placed the barrel of the pistol against the side of her skull and it wouldn't move; she whimpered, fear tangible, and didn't understand what was happening. She had never felt so terrified in her life and based on Ward's expression, he was horrified. Why did he have to somehow crush the I.C.E.R. in his grip earlier?

"Leave her _alone!"_ Ward roared, "She has _nothing_ to do with this. This is between you and me, Christian."

The Senator looked at Ward, turning his attention away from her, and she felt small relief; she still held the gun to her head, unable to force her arm to take it away. "You can't blame me, Grant. _You_ brought her into this."

"If you kill her, I'm going to rip out your spine," Ward hissed, eyes black and his body shook, vibrating with hatred. "I should have done it after you killed Thomas. I'm going to kill you. I hold all the power now; your life is _mine._"

Skye could do nothing but watch, a gun held to her head, and her heart hammered in her chest; she tried to focus on what they were saying.

"Whatever power you hold is but a memory; it's a _whisper_ of what it once was."

What? What was the Senator talking about?

"Do you forget me throwing you _through_ a tree?"

"A whisper," the Senator dismissed. "Nothing more."

"What does that mean?" Ward demanded aggressively, lips curled back; he looked feral. "_Tell_ me!"

"No. You're going to do exactly as I say, or Skye will die." The Senator said it so bluntly, so calmly that Skye quivered; she was about to die! She didn't want to die! "I hold the power, not you."

"_No!"_ She cried out, "You don't have to- "

"_Stop talking,_ Skye."

Her mouth snapped shut and it wouldn't open again; she stared, wide-eyed, at Ward, the fear compounding in her mind.

Ward stood still but the dark fury was thick in the air; it was hard to breathe, the darkness growing, enlarging with each breath he took. "I'm going to rip that tongue of yours- "

"Careful. You wouldn't want to make me react to your words with angry words of my own. What would happen to Skye?"

"What do you want?"

"There we go. Your life."

Ward's fists clenched, "As you wanted _Thomas'_ life?"

"Thomas was _weak!"_ The Senator snapped, "When will you _understand?_ I don't remember you being this _stupid_."

"What are you talking about? What can't I _remember?"_

"_Everything!_ I made sure of it. Thomas was frail, a near-cripple. A weak blot on both our name and bloodline. I remedied Mother's failure because _he_ was a failure!"

"He was my _twin!"_

Skye staggered, the hold of whatever it was that the Senator inflicted on her vanishing, and the gun fell to her side; she braced herself against a tree, mind rocking from the waves of that revelation. Thomas was Ward's twin? Not his younger brother? Ward had watched his twin brother drown, murdered by his older brother? She shook herself and realizing her freedom, pointed the gun at the Senator but she was too late; he saw her.

"_Stop, _Skye." Her body froze and she couldn't move; her mind rebelled, but a bigger part overwhelmed her frantic urgency. "You are a devoted whore. What else could you be? Who else could be so devoted to Grant? Enough to briefly break free? He must compensate you generously."

Her eyes widened in shock and her eyes moved to Ward but he wasn't paying attention, staring to his right at a tree. Why wasn't he reacting? Realizing that he wouldn't intervene, she took it into her own hands, moving her gaze back to the Senator.

"The only whore is _you!"_ Skye snapped from her frozen position, her mouth free from that control; her fear had invoked her rage. "You'll bend right over for power and attention! I bet it doesn't take long to- "

"SHUT UP, JOHN!" Ward's abrupt thunderous yell silenced everything, even the Senator, and Skye felt the coldest bucket of water imaginable sweep her off her feet but she still couldn't move; the words echoed through the woods, reverberating in her heart - _what?_

Was Ward hearing Garrett? Did he… see him? Skye knew if she wasn't frozen by whatever the Senator did, and she wasn't ruling out the Dark Side of the Force since he was clearly somehow The Emperor incarnate, she would fall to her knees, strength, and balance abandoning her. Ward's insane words from earlier about explosives and questioning him returned to her and her vision tunneled. Had he been talking to Garrett?

"That is _interesting,_" the Senator cut through the stunned silence, staring at Ward with interest. "Even though my power- "

"You hold no power!" Ward snarled, face a mass of twisted fury; his teeth looked sharper. "You force others to do your bidding. You're a coward; you don't do it yourself."

"True power, Grant, is making someone do something they were previously not willing to. So I hold _all _of the power. Imagine when I'm President. I will bring change the likes of which has never been seen. No Revolution in history will compare to what I will beget. I will be Caesar, and I will never be forgotten; my name will never die and I will be worshipped as a god. Generations from now, people will remark how blessed their ancestors were to have lived in the time of Christian Ward."

"_No._ Your end will be that of Guy Fawkes', but instead of London Bridge, I'll stick your head on a pike up on the Capitol Building. No one will remember you, least of all the Ward name. I'll _ensure_ it."

The Senator smiled and the air curled in on itself; it felt cold. "You won't be alive to see it. No one will remember Grant Ward, only his esteemed, superior brother."

"You're such a _bullshitter,_" she spat out angrily, still frozen. "I would willingly see you put to death for what you've done, for everything you are. And the realization sickens me, but I wouldn't regret it."

"And I don't regret this," the Senator turned to her. "_Kill Grant_, Skye_._"

"No!" Ward shouted while still keeping his gaze on his brother, but it didn't help. "Don't!"

Skye's hand wavered and her breathing intensified; the compulsion to follow the order was beyond fathoming and her aim focused on Ward, who remained with his back to her, staring at his brother. His words came back to her from the Bus all those months ago: _'Never turn your back on the enemy.'_ Right now, the Senator was the enemy, but Skye felt like the treacherous snake.

"_Shoot!"_

Her finger pulled the trigger, and the gun exploded four times. Ward sickeningly jerked forward, towards the Senator, away from her, and Skye unleashed a silent scream, tears spilling down her cheeks - _no!_ Dawning awareness crept into her mind as Ward was somehow still on his feet - _he wasn't dead! _Her eyes were drawn to the visible bullet holes in the back of his jacket and shirt; almost instantaneously, blood began to pool out of the holes, dripping to the ground with the force of bombs. She had shot him in the back; she dimly realized there was some kind of irony in that fact, but she was too relieved that she hadn't killed him.

The Senator blinked before a foul expression crossed his face. "_Again!"_

Skye felt the compulsion, felt it clawing at her very soul, viciously wounding her the longer she resisted, but before she caved, Ward whirled around and stomped towards her in less than a second; the gun was thankfully snatched out of her numb hands.

"Not this time," he hissed, inhaling roughly - _oh, she could see the blood soaking his shirt!_ "Never again."

He turned back around, and the sudden explosion of the gun made her flinch; the Senator roared in pain, falling to the ground as his kneecap was blown apart, leaves whipping into the air. His hands were flailed over the destroyed knee, and Skye saw the blood streaming past the Senator's fingers in uneven red rivers; she felt nauseous and wasn't sure from what. It could have been from any of the past revelations or from shooting Ward.

"I'm so _sorry,_" she rushed out, frantically looking at Ward when she felt in control once again; he was bent over, inhaling roughly. "I didn't want to! The _words,_ they- "

"I know," he cut her off and she swallowed. Thankfully, she could move now, so she inched closer; she hesitantly placed a shaking hand on his hunched shoulder.

"Are- are you _okay?"_

"I'll heal," he answered shortly; he wasn't looking at her. "I think he will, too."

Skye glanced at the Senator, who was trying to crawl away; he wasn't getting far. "He _is_ Satan," she whispered. "I thought it… a- an over-exaggeration, but it's _not._ He tricked me, and his words _hurt_. I'm sorry, Ward," she felt helpless as she drowned in self-loathing. "If I was stronger, I would- "

"Stop. I'm not dead, and I have you to thank for that." Ward looked so tired and she had the insane thought that he might sit down, but then he achingly drew himself up; the rage was thick in the air, a noxious odor that filled her lungs. He stared down at her, emotions flashing over his face so rapidly she couldn't distinguish them. "_Thank you._ For everything. You believed me. No one's ever done that except John."

She hated being put into the same category as Garrett, and she was thankfully saved from answering as the Senator hissed; her eyes swiveled to look at him. The sight of him pulling himself up to his feet filled her with wariness, especially when she noticed that, miraculously, he was beginning to put light weight on both legs, something which should be impossible without one of his kneecaps. It meant that somehow - the same way Ward was able to be so strong, fast, and heal - the Senator was slowly healing.

What the hell was happening? How was that possible?

"_Attack him,_ Skye!" The Senator glared at them and Skye immediately launched herself at Ward, but he effortlessly, even with his wounds, moved out of the way.

"Call it off, or you'll lose another kneecap," Ward threatened, pointing the gun at the Senator, as she jumped back at him; memories of her training with May converged into her limbs, but nothing she did worked because she was but a child in comparison, and that would never change. "Do it now!"

"_Stop,_ Skye."

She relaxed, control swiftly returning to her, the stark change a liberation. Before she could say anything, Ward did. "Good choice."

"Now what?" The Senator braced himself up against a tree. "You're going to murder a _Senator?_ If you do, everyone will know you're the one who did it; your name will be everywhere and manhunts will never stop looking for you."

Ward flatly stared back, "Finish uncovering the well."

"Why would I do that?"

"To make sure the possibility of that future of yours comes to pass."

Skye honestly had no idea if he was lying; he sounded deadly serious.

The Senator's jaw clenched, "I can't walk."

"Too bad." Ward stomped towards his brother and pulled him further to his feet, shoving him towards where he had been digging earlier. "Finish it."

"Give me the shovel," the Senator hissed through gritted teeth, but he was able to barely stand; it should have been impossible! Ward picked it up and tossed it at him; it was caught gingerly and the Senator began to slowly dig again, pushing his foot into the dirt for support. "Why did you come here, Grant? You could have disappeared with your whore. But you came after me. _Why?"_

"I need answers. Why do you want me dead? What is it that I can't remember? _Why_ can't I remember? You're going to explain, or I'm going to start taking fingers."

"That would be paradoxical if you want me to use a shovel."

"I'll make you use your teeth."

Skye felt a horrible delight at the Senator's pale face. "What do you want to know?"

"Why did you send Jasper after me? Why am I a threat?"

"When Phil Coulson mentioned the well, I knew John Garrett's protege was my brother. I feared you would remember."

"Remember _what?"_

"The memories I made you forget. My ascendancy to President is inevitable, but I don't want reports of our childhood surfacing, revealed by Christian Ward's brother."

"What does that mean?" Skye suddenly asked, trying to wrap her mind around everything. "How do you make someone forget their own memories? Did you use, what, a hypnotist?"

"It's effortless for someone like me," the Senator glanced at her as he dumped more dirt to the side; the fight seemed to have left him. "We all had gifts."

"Meaning what?" Ward demanded, "Don't bullshit me."

"Do you remember Mother?" The Senator's words were almost gentle and Skye blinked back her shock, hanging on every word, keeping her gaze on Ward, too. "Not the way she was in your last memories of her. When you were a child."

Ward stared at his brother; his eyes were narrowed, angered. "I remember her torturing me - just as you did. Dad let her do it; he didn't care. She said I was dangerous and must be taught control, to know my place. She always hated me - just like you."

Skye felt a tightness in her chest, felt the air constrict in her lungs; she felt nauseated, the slivers she continued to receive from Ward about his past threatening to overwhelm her. How did he do it? She couldn't imagine being in his shoes, triumphing over everything he did, surviving to become the best, and most of all, she could never imagine hating her own son, torturing him.

"She never understood us," the Senator's words were soft but they echoed in the crisp air. "How could she? She wasn't like us."

"Loosen your tongue, Christian!" Ward snapped, "Why wasn't she like us?"

"She was mortal."

The words floated in the air and Skye looked at the Senator's healing knee, how he was slowly able to stand straighter with each passing minute; she glanced at Ward, who she had shot four times in the back, but was fine now. Then there was the fact that the Senator had somehow controlled her by speaking; it was how she had shot Ward.

"Are you a… demon?" Skye guessed quietly, "That would explain a lot."

"_Mortal?"_ Ward ignored her and she honestly was okay with it; she wasn't even sure that this wasn't one big nightmare or something. "Stop being vague. What do you mean?"

"You were her obsession; for seven years, you were all she talked about. From the moment of my birth, I was _never_ good enough, too _rushed_. She wanted to move to the next one, the _better_ one. She waited seven years to perfect it, to make you perfect, and you were everything she wanted, the _weapon_ they wanted - the new, more evolved, stronger Asset. But Thomas wasn't." Skye felt disassociated from reality, listening to the Senator's words with detached interest; she knew if she allowed her emotions a little room, they would overwhelm her. "He was weak, frail; he was everything you weren't. And Mother was stuck with him - we all were. Because he was so… weak, he was the only one of us who Mother didn't torture… because she saw herself in him, for she was always the weakest; she loved Thomas so much, cherished him more than the rest of us, her _experiments_. So I took that from her. I wanted her to feel _our _pain. I wanted to torture her, and I used you to do it."

Skye was scarcely breathing and she looked at Ward; he remained silent and motionless but she knew he had heard everything.

"So you admit it," he finally whispered, looming over the Senator. "_You_ murdered Thomas."

"I cleansed our family- "

"And I'm going to do the same!" Ward pointed the gun at the Senator's skull and Skye was frozen in place, watching the scene with horrified eyes. "This talk of bloodlines. Coulson thinks I'm Hitler reborn, but it's actually you. I'll do what the July Plot couldn't!"

"Then all my knowledge vanishes."

Ward hissed between his teeth, looking feral; she thought he was going to shoot the Senator anyway, but he backed away, gun pulled back, forcing himself away from the temptation. "Keep digging. How was Mother mortal? Why weren't… we?"

The Senator jammed the shovel into the ground with force, dirt spraying into the air. "The experiments. Our births. They were all methodical, meticulous. _Planned_. We weren't accidents. Mother knew what she was doing and with whom she did it. Dr. Zenfield ensured it." Skye noticed Ward tense at the mention of that name. "Each offspring was more of a success than the last; you were the culmination of everything she worked for, but you split into two. Why aren't you lying in a puddle of blood? How am I standing after that bullet through my kneecap? How were you able to throw me through a tree? How was I more furious than hurt?"

"_Exactly!"_ Ward exploded and Skye felt the same, "Tell me."

"Our _gifts._ Mother is mortal, but she bore gods into the world; we're _gods,_ Grant. It's the legacy through which Mother survives. We'll never be rid of her; these gifts ensure she lasts forever." The Senator looked up at Ward, eyes narrowed, "At least, she will continue to haunt _me_. You still don't remember. You're nothing more than a gun without bullets."

"_Why?_ What did you do to me to make me forget?"

"It was the hardest thing I ever did," the Senator grunted and moved more dirt. "It took everything I had, all the skill, willpower, and focus, but when I was done… you stopped following my commands. You became _immune._ It nearly killed me."

"I wish it did."

The Senator glared -_ how she had not missed that expression!_ \- and harshly jammed the shovel into the ground again but a _clanging_ sound echoed in the air; they all froze.

"I think you're out of dirt," she said weakly, eyes darting between Ward and the Senator; the animosity returned and it was so thick in the air she could taste it. "_Wait._ Before you start- "

"Remove the cover," Ward commanded flatly; he was emotionless. "Do it now."

The Senator slowly complied and scraped the dirt away; he then threw the wood cover aside. The dark abyss of the well was visible and Skye heard the echoes of a screaming boy who died down there. Ward seemed to hear it as well, for his eyes closed briefly and when they opened, the sudden fury in his eyes stole her breath.

"This was how it was always going to end," the Senator whispered, staring at Ward. "Isn't that right, Grant?"

Skye frowned, "What are you talking abo- "

"Yes," Ward nodded strangely, the fury growing; his posture paradoxically relaxed. "I've been dreaming about it for fifteen years."

"So have I," the Senator's stance shifted and Skye felt foreboding swarm in the air, flowing toward her, weighing her down; she felt heavy. "You know how it ends!"

The Senator suddenly lunged at her awkwardly, shovel aimed to cleave her head from her shoulders, and Skye couldn't react, could only feel her body tensing in preparation for a killing blow; her eyes shut automatically. The sound of a gunshot echoed and Skye's eyes snapped back open and she stared, horrified, as the Senator blindly stumbled back, shovel fallen to the ground, hands clutching his throat; blood gushed through his fingers, staining his hands and suit red. The Senator continued to stagger back and before Skye could stop him, he collapsed into the abyss of the well; the _thud_ echoed.

Senator Christian Ward was dead.

Skye whirled to face Ward, eyes wide, heart hammering in her chest, threatening to burst through her sternum. The gun was still raised, and Ward stared at the well; his eyes looked lifeless.

"Ward?" Skye whispered but he didn't react; she grew concerned, worry compounding as she swallowed. "Wa- _Grant?"_

Ward blinked and the gun numbly fell to his side; he mindlessly walked to the front of the well, staring down inside. For several moments, nothing happened but then he raised the gun again and fired; the gunshot was ear-shattering, the focus of all that sound exploding back upward from that narrow corridor of the well.

He fell to his knees, breaths coming in pants as he remained staring down at the body of his brother; she silently wondered if part of him had died with the Senator.

"The oldest death in the world," he mumbled. "Brother killing brother. I _killed_ my brother. I'm just like Christian: A brother-murderer."

"Cain and Abel," she whispered. "But _he_ was no Abel, Grant."

"That was Thomas," Ward's eyes were shut; he looked hollow, like a broken robot. "Thomas was Abel, Christian was Cain, but who am I? A monster?"

"No. A protector," she responded softly, kneeling down next to him; she hesitantly placed her hand on his larger, bigger, bloodied, and dirt-coated hands. "You saved me. Thank you."

Ward laughed with no amusement; it was bitter and she hated it. "That's two brothers who die here. This place is _cursed_."

"I'm so sorry," Skye floundered for a way to help him feel better. "I believe you."

"That means more than you know," Ward slowly looked at her and she was swallowed by the depths of his gorgeous eyes. "I didn't want you to see any of this."

"You're not going to get rid of me," she asserted and meant it; she was going to stay with Ward and help him. If she had learned anything in the recent weeks, it was that she didn't have all of the information and that S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing nothing to get it. "I'm going to help you. I can't imagine what you're feeling, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything I just heard, but what's next? What do you want to do?"

"Someone will come," he answered wearily; he turned back to stare down at the Senator's body and it was disconcerting. "His staff knew he was coming here. When he doesn't… return, an investigation will ensue. Everyone will know it was me; they'll _know_. Christian was right."

She wet her lips, "What does that mean?"

"That we need to leave," Ward stood to his feet and grabbed the wooden cover, placing it over the well, sealing the body of a dead man forever; he grabbed the shovel and began to put the dirt back. "We need to get out of here. We'll take that SUV; it's time we switched vehicles anyway."

Skye tried to keep her head from erupting from the craziness; she couldn't even think of everything that happened, not yet. "Wouldn't the ripped-off door be a tip-off?"

"I'll shoot anyone who asks."

She felt so drained that she didn't even care if he meant it or not. "Where will we go?"

"Do you mind if… we continue the detour?"

Skye didn't need to think about it, "No. My father can wait. My answers… they don't seem as important right now."

"They still matter, and I swear I'll help you get them."

"I believe you."

Ward looked at her and stepped toward her; the well had vanished. "Thank you. I don't deserve you."

Skye suddenly remembered the Senator's earlier words; she tried not to think about the fact that she would be deemed an accomplice in his death. "Was your brother right? Are you… trying to be worthy of my… love?"

He stared at her, eyes serious. "I want to show you that I'm not what Coulson or any of the others say. I want to show you that I didn't lie on the Bus as much as you think."

"You're proving it," she whispered. "Am I what… kept you at the Playground?"

"Yes."

"Because you love me?"

"Yes."

Skye felt overwhelmed and didn't want to explore that deeper, not yet. "How would you have escaped from the Playground?"

"I memorized the layout when they imprisoned me; they didn't put a bag over my head as they escorted me through the base. The energy barrier was the only deterrent, and it's not as much of one as Coulson thinks. Maybe I could have forced my way through, although I highly doubt it. Most likely, it would have been another suicide attempt, this one a con. When they inevitably came down and disengaged the barrier, I'd attack. Kill whoever it is, take their weapons, and fight my way out of the base."

She swallowed, "I'm glad it didn't come to that. I'm glad I saw the truth."

Ward nodded and turned around, "Come on. We need to leave."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****S.H.I.E.L.D. meets to discuss the lack of progress in searching for Ward - and thus, Skye! Tripp and Fitz speak up about the continual threat of Hydra and how Ward, no matter how dangerous, is nothing in comparison to Hydra. Since Skye's been taken by Ward, it makes it a much harder pill to swallow, but Coulson eventually sees reason.**

**Why Coulson might think Ward is a better manipulator than Romanoff is that Ward fooled everyone, including Coulson and May, two of the greatest S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever had. Ward was in S.H.I.E.L.D. but no one knew he was Hydra and he conned EVERYONE. Romanoff, in the MCU, has done nothing to compare that to. (Really, all Hydra Agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. showed espionage skills that Romanoff has never shown. I'm going off of feats, not word of mouth from other characters because feats are cemented in stone and more impressive than just listening to someone else praise a character. And in **_**Civil War,**_** Romanoff's 'treachery' was so easy to discern, to see coming, whereas Ward's reveal as Hydra was stunning.) Plus, it's possible that Coulson's hatred/fear toward Ward affects his judgment; either is possible. I'll let you decide which it is.**

**Yes, I do firmly think that Loki was manipulating Romanoff in the Avengers movie. THAT scene was my biggest gripe, how a mere mortal could out trick, outsmart, outwit a character who's lived nearly a thousand years while living and breathing that same game. It's honestly absolute bullshit that Romanoff was able to trick Loki because it's a disservice to Loki's characterization and turns him into a caricature. It makes MUCH more sense that Loki was playing her, knowing that she would immediately go to Banner, stressing him out, demanding that he needs to leave all while knowing Barton will soon attack the Helicarrier.**

****Skye sees Ward's unblemished wrists and learns about Ward's healing abilities and strength that were brought forward by the adrenaline rush during the transfer. Neither knows what's happening, but they're looking for answers.**

****The confrontation with the Senator happens! First of all, Christian Ward is Hydra in this, and it will eventually become apparent why. I definitely changed things regarding his personality in this – and the entire confrontation because I wanted things to be MUCH more explosive and emotionally raw. In Canon, I didn't really like what they did with Christian Ward, to be honest; it felt more of a way to force Ward into the villain role, making him seem merciless for not forgiving his brother who had turned over a new leaf. I was really excited when it was apparent that Ward was going to confront his brother in the show, but I just felt let down by what happened. Plus, when you take into account that Christian Ward has powers, and it's the power of influencing others through his speech, he wouldn't ever change. He'd remain the same and that power had corrupted him. Plus, it explains how Coulson was so fooled by Christian Ward - and how his presidency would be inevitable. **

**Yes, Ward's escape plan would have been far-fetched, but with how incompetent S.H.I.E.L.D. has been shown, it wouldn't surprise me if he could have somehow pulled it off. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	5. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

Upon viewing the ripped-off car door in all of its glory for a second time, Ward had elected not to take the SUV; he had piled the Hydra Agents in the car and driven it a safe distance away, compelling confusion about where the Senator might have been taken after they awakened from their forced slumber. She had asked him if the Senator would somehow heal, but Ward responded that since she hadn't looked at his brother's corpse at the bottom of the well, she hadn't seen the massive hole through his skull, the obliteration of his brain.

There would be no healing from that.

Then he had retraced the path the three of them had taken to sweep away all of the foot tracks, and rubbed dirt over the blood and buried the Senator's teeth. While they weren't able to do anything about the broken tree, Ward had made sure that no evidence could be found, especially by going back to make sure there were no signs of anything near where the well had used to be; everything was untouched, perfect in nature. No one would ever know that a Senator had found his eternal resting place there.

Then, when Skye had followed him back into the cabin, she was met with the sight of him lighting a match. She tried to deter him, but it was useless; honestly, she hadn't blamed him. She didn't and would never condone his actions, but… they were understandable. They had walked back to their car, the smell of smoke thick in the air.

Now they drove back on the highway and nothing had been said for over an hour. Skye had tried to rest, but her mind raced with questions, with the memories of what had happened. Ward wasn't saying anything and she didn't want to be the first one to speak, but she had to know; she needed the truth, to understand.

"Thomas was your twin?"

Ward didn't react; his eyes remained on the road. "Yes."

Skye swallowed thickly, unable to imagine watching your twin brother drown before your eyes. "Wh- why didn't you… tell _me?_ Tell anyone?"

"He was frail, small; he was nearly a cripple. Even though we looked the same, everyone thought he was years younger. Mom and Dad didn't correct them. Even though he was my twin, I saw him as… a younger brother." Ward's hand tightened on the steering wheel; his knuckles were white and she was surprised he hadn't ripped the steering wheel off or something. "That knowledge was mine. _Only_ mine, a secret sliver that neither Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D. would ever find out."

"Did Garrett know?"

"Yes."

She did her best not to feel bitter at that fact; she was almost successful. "What was he like? Thomas?"

"He was smart, clever. For all his physical weakness, his mind was sharp and he… had the habit of mouthing off. We fed off each other, him and I." Pure wistfulness crossed his face and Skye felt sorrow, "Mother never touched him and I was okay with that. I preferred it. Better me being tortured than him. Even though I beat him up when I was too weak to rebel against Christian, he still loved me. He was the only one. Dad hated me, Christian hated me, and the only time I ever remember Ruth speaking was when she called me in juvie. Mother didn't love me, not like she did Thomas; she tortured me and… injected me with… I don't know what it was. It's a _flash_ of something; it's all I see, remember."

"Your mother was the one who… abused you?"

"She was a bitch."

Skye nodded slowly, still having trouble grasping the full picture; she couldn't even imagine it, but she knew it was the truth. "I agree. I've called you a monster, but… that was a mistake. Calling your family monsters isn't. Do you… mind if I ask questions?"

Ward glanced at her, "So you can understand?"

"Yeah."

"I won't lie to you."

"What about your… Dad?"

"He was a cuckold, a weak man who smoked constantly. He used to put out cigarettes on my arms; he found it was amusing."

Skye's eyes widened and the sickening feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance. "Di- did those scars heal, too?"

"They must have," Ward answered slowly, a hint of bemusement entering his tone. "Everything else healed after the adrenaline rush, but… but I didn't have those scars. I have no memory of having those scars, but I… remember him doing that."

"I don't remember seeing them," she said quietly, not sure how much more of learning about his childhood she could take. "I've seen you with your shirt off."

"Why didn't I have scars? I _remember _him jamming the cigarettes into my arms."

"Maybe it was whatever your brother did," she offered quietly, shuddering at that knowledge. "He somehow took your memories."

"And he never said how he did it," he murmured. "I… killed him before we got to that part."

Skye doubted she'd get much more out of him about that; she moved to something else that had been bothering her, the persistent question in her mind that had probably been the loudest. "You told John to shut up back there. Wha- what did you mean?

"What do you think?"

"Do you see… _Garrett?"_

Ward tensed minutely but it was enough; she already knew the answer before he spoke. "Yes."

She swallowed, the horror and shock warring for control; she refused to allow it! "How long? When… did it start?"

"After my suicide attempt," she flinched at the reminder of her callous treatment; it was a bad memory! "When I woke up, John was there. And he's stayed with me."

"That's who you were talking to in Vault D," she whispered in realization. "You _were_ talking. To him."

"He came back to me."

The pleasure in his tone sickened her, but she didn't know what to do; she felt helpless and it pissed her off. "Do- do you _see_ him now?"

"I see him all the time. He talks to me, reminds me of my training, and gives me advice; he tells his stories." Skye shut her eyes and tried so hard to ignore the blatant contentment in Ward's voice; she wasn't successful. "He was there for me again when I needed him."

Skye's eyes snapped open, staring at him in disbelief, but before she snapped at him, she remembered everyone's reaction to his suicide attempts: Utter disregard and contempt. She had encouraged - _encouraged!_ \- him to try harder to kill himself; there was no reality where she had the right to lecture Ward about who he should and shouldn't trust and look up to.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and wiped the stray tears in her eyes, feeling her control slipping; the regret was too much. "I should've been there for you. Not _him._"

"You're here now," Ward's voice was soft, gentle; he seemed to understand. "That's what I care about."

"But _he's_ here, too," she stared at him desperately. "_Where_ is he?"

"Sitting in the back."

Her head snapped toward the back, sudden mind-numbing fear shattering her resolve but when she saw nothing but leather, it was both a relief and dreadful because while she didn't see anything, Ward clearly did; he saw his dead father and everyone, including herself, had been blind to it.

A wave of nausea swept through her and her blood pounded in her ears; she tried to keep her voice steady. "What's he saying?"

Ward glanced at her, "That I proved my strength by killing Christian."

Skye's hands shook, horror bearing down on her heart, soul, and mind. "Is the- there anything… else?"

"Taking you with me is a mistake."

Even though it was obviously a ghost, she felt offended, and the fact that it was somehow the ghost of Garrett infuriated her. "The only mistake is that you even see _him._ It's not normal, Grant. You shouldn't see him; he's _dead._ It- it's not _healthy!"_

"I know," the blunt, honest reply stunned her and she was incapable of a retort before he spoke again. "He's a figment of my imagination, but I don't care. I had John for fifteen years and it wasn't enough." Ward's body tightened, a signal of his loathing. "He should still be _here._ If only he were. The two of us, him and I. That's how it was; we'd do mercenary work or private security or _something._ We'd live life the way it was meant to be lived. But _Coulson _took that from me - and that deceitful bitch."

Skye felt sick to her stomach and suddenly wondered if she was in over her head regarding Ward, and she worried about her compromised judgment when she realized that she didn't even care if she was.

"Do you talk to him?" She asked softly, afraid of the answer based on his eruption back in the woods.

"Yes."

"And he thinks me being here with you is a mistake?"

If the ghost of Garrett considered it a mistake, it definitely wasn't, so Skye had made the correct decision in staying with Ward.

Ward exhaled slowly, "He thinks more than that."

Skye blinked and a haunting scenario began to illuminate in her mind. "Wait. Has Garrett been… talking to you about _me?"_

"Yes."

"What does he say?" She demanded, fingers curled into fists in her lap. "What's he been telling you?"

"You don't want to know."

She certainly did now; she leaned toward him. "_Yes,_ I do. Surely it's nothing worse than I can think of."

Ward's jaw ticked and he looked uncomfortable; it should be unthinkable! "John wants me to get rid of you. Cut you out."

"What does that mean? He wants you to… _kill _me?"

"Yes."

Skye stared at him uncomprehendingly before she laughed, and she was aware enough to hear the hysteria in it. "Well, tell Garrett that he can go _fuck_ himself. I know you love him and everything, but he was a _monster! _He- he abandoned you in the woods! He manipulated you for _fifteen_ years, conditioning you like- like a… a Pavlovian _dog!"_

"_Stop_ it, Skye," Ward's voice was low and when he looked at her, his eyes were serious. "You know nothing of the context of- "

"He wants you to _kill_ me!"

"And I _haven't._ Every time John tells me to… get rid of you, I ignore him. I told him that you're going to be part of the picture; he has to deal with it."

She felt pleasure at that news, "But don't you realize that Garrett was a monster? You were- "

"You don't know the context."

"How can you _say_ that? While I wasn't there with you in the woods, or when he kidnapped you out of juvie- "

"John didn't kidnap me. I went willingly. I _chose_ to go with him; he gave me a choice. I could stay in juvie or go with him. Don't blame John for something that _I _did."

She tried so hard to understand his line of thinking, "And that makes his later actions _okay?_ None of the other S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents or Specialists were ever dumped in the woods like so- some _trash._ Nobody else secretly went on fake missions or whatever to visit the teenager they manipulated!"

"John ensured that I would be the best," Ward's voice was darkening, his tone becoming more and more harsh, but Skye was prepared. "Everything he did was to make me a man, to make me _strong._"

"Everything he did was to make you his weapon! You were his loaded gun!"

"I was both those things and more!" The words entered her ears and she stared, stunned; the veins in his neck were prominent, pulsing with anger. "I was everything John needed me to be. I was his soldier, and there was _nothing_ wrong with that. My decisions are mine."

Skye shut her eyes, trying to understand how she could make him see the truth, but the only conclusion she arrived at was that he needed more time. "But you recognize that at least some of those decisions were the wrong ones, right?"

"Yes," he stated reluctantly. "I made some mistakes."

She nearly sagged with relief, pleased to know that he continued to see that part. "What do you regret? _Please._ I- I need to know."

Ward sighed and he looked tired, "I regret that you were shot." Skye closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories of bullets ripping through her, the sight of blood oozing out of her faster than she could analyze. "I regret that John went insane. I regret that the med pod didn't float."

Skye looked at him, "Is that it?"

"I regret that I hurt you. I… I made mistakes."

"I made mistakes, too, but I'm here with you now," her voice was soft and she hesitantly placed her hand on his arm. "I'm helping you, no matter my choices in the past. Our decisions in the present are more important than the ones in the past. The nuns used to tell me that those who live in the past can never see clearly."

Ward's brow rose, "Yet you and I are both trying to learn about our pasts."

"You can't make the past die," she admitted. "It's important, but it can't be _too _important."

"I had those memories of my childhood, the ones that I can actually remember, locked _down_. But then that staff ruined everything. It was _better_ when I had them locked down, when I didn't remember. I was better. Not knowing or focusing on the past served me a hell of a lot more than it does thinking about. Now I've got memories I don't even know are mine because of Christian and Jasper."

"But you feel the need to know, to understand," she pointed out gently. "Part of you yearns for it, and that's why we're doing this. It's why we tracked down your brother. Because you wanted to know. You've already said that, remember?"

"I guess," Ward sounded bitter. "All I know is that more questions keep popping up. Then there's what Christian said about… being gods."

"Well, I'd imagine he would think that if he could literally control someone just by talking to them. I mean, remember what he did?"

"I remember all of it."

"He told me to shoot you, and I just…" her breathing increased and she struggled for control. "I _had_ to do it. It hurt when I resisted."

"I know."

She looked at him, a broader picture of his childhood forming. "I don't know how you did it. You lived with him… and your parents."

Ward glanced at her, dark amusement shining in those gorgeous eyes. "By being a horrible son of a bitch. I made Christian's life hell; he wasn't lying about that."

Skye was suddenly reminded of something the Senator had said. "Your… brother mentioned a- a Dr. Zenfield."

"I know of him."

That explained his reaction. "Who is he?"

"One of Hydra's greatest scientists; he was Zola's protege. A legend who every Hydra scientist measures themselves against - and inevitably falls short."

Skye felt her blood freeze, that knowledge an instant game-changer, "Oh."

"That name-drop raises more questions and suspicions. I think my mother was another of those great scientists. I don't know what it means yet."

"We'll find out together," she assured. "We'll get answers."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Coulson stared at the screen, the pit in his chest enlarging with each passing second; it was worse than he had thought. On every news station, the revelation of Senator Ward's disappearance was being discussed.

"_Over the last several days, Senators have flocked back to Washington in shock at the disappearance of their leading figure. A beloved Senator renowned for his charity, goodwill, and humility, all leading experts had predicted a Ward presidency to be the next administration in control of the White House. Intelligence officers have indicated Senator Ward's indictment against his younger brother, Grant, as a leading terrorist in the organization of Hydra as the potential catalyst for the Senator's disappearance and the torching of his summer home. Currently, a massive manhunt is underway for Grant Ward. If anyone has information about the suspect, we encourage you to alert your local authorities, who will dispense the information to higher, proper channels."_

"They'll never find him," May stated brusquely; her body was stiff. "It was Ward. At least they can see it. Only he could have done this."

Coulson nodded, "There are a few others, but only Ward has the motivation. I suspect the Senator is dead. This is on my head."

May turned to face him, eyes narrowed. "Don't start. This is on Ward- "

"If I had kept him in Vault D- "

"Then the Senator's bill would have passed."

"If I had sedated Ward on the transfer, a good man would still be alive and Skye wouldn't be trapped with Ward, which might be damaging her psyche irreversibly. I was blind to her feelings. How did she _hide_ them from me? Why didn't she trust me?"

"Skye didn't help Ward escape- "

"But she should have come to me," Coulson shut his eyes and did his best to ignore the way his fingers danced across his pants in the familiar, alien pattern. "She should have told me about her doubts the moment I asked her to go on the transfer. Simmons should have reported her findings."

"Mistakes were made, Phil. No one denies that, least of all Simmons."

"Hunter was right, you know," he murmured. "About the secrets. So was Morse. Secrets are what doomed us to Hydra. I respect Fury more than anyone I've met in my life, but in the dark moments when I'm alone, the alien language pounding against my skull, I can't help but wonder why he didn't do things differently."

"We've all wondered," she replied in a rare soft tone. "But it won't make it easier to deal with what happened. Garrett and Ward are filth. _That's_ what happened."

Coulson felt weak, "I know, but Skye didn't see it, or at least she didn't care. She _fooled_ all of us; she's more like Ward than we thought."

May's lips thinned, "Yes. There was no indication of Skye's feelings for Ward, not since the Hydra Uprising."

"There were times when she came to me asking about Ward and Garrett, but I told her to stop thinking about monsters. I didn't want to deal with my own emotions and rage about the subject, but I should have. If I had truly spoken with her about Ward and Garrett, then we wouldn't be in this situation. But I didn't, and because she loves Ward, he has her."

"Since she went down to visit him in Vault D when she wasn't supposed to, she's clearly been manipulated, Phil. We'll get her back. We have to. Skye- "

"Skye chose him over us, and now she's with that son of a bitch."

"Because _Ward_ manipulated her," May stated adamantly. "You said it yourself: He might be better than Romanoff at it. I can see it. I mean, he fooled me _twice_, Phil. And e_veryone._ Skye doesn't have the proper training to- "

"Why doesn't she?" Coulson demanded, turning to face her. "Why didn't you teach her to see through Ward's _bullshit?"_

May frowned, "Do _not _turn this on me. It's no one's fault but Ward's. I've been teaching Skye control and compartmentalization… but I clearly failed. She succumbed to her feelings, no matter how irrational and foolish."

"I should have seen it," he closed his eyes to compose himself. "We all should have, but we won't make that mistake again. Ever."

"Yes. We're still looking for Ward, and we will find him. When we do, we'll rescue Skye and put him down."

Coulson stared at her, feeling desperation clawing at his mind. "Skye will be named an accessory in the kidnapping and, most likely, murder of the Senator; she was forced into it by Ward. He pulled her into his murder-spree."

"We'll deal with that later. When we find Ward, our bullets won't miss."

"No I.C.E.R.s," he agreed. "I want the cockroach gone. Meanwhile, has there been any change in our intel about what Hydra is planning?"

"Everything that Morse and some of what Simmons have supplied check out. Hydra is planning something big with Whitehall at the forefront. Do you still feel- "

"Every day," he said softly. "Every day, there's this… echo in my mind; it's like a mating call. I need to figure out who or what I'm supposed to find."

"We'll figure it out," May assured and he took strength from it. "We're getting there. Everyone's looking. I told them to do whatever it takes."

"I'm going insane," Coulson whispered, confiding that truth to May. "Ward was right, that _bastard._ He's right. I can't think straight because of this damned mating call or whatever it is. Garrett wasn't always insane. I _knew_ him; it was only at the end when he lost his mind. I'm following that same path. It… it might be best if I step down as Director and- "

"_No,_" she hissed, shaking her head adamantly. "There's no one more qualified to lead S.H.I.E.L.D. than you, even with this… virus. We'll find the cure, and you'll be fine."

"You don't know that. I don't know that. Before we get the cure, I could end up just like Garrett. Ward said that Garrett wasn't making sense after he received the GH-325, that none of his speech made coherent sense. If I get that way, I want… I can't live like that."

"You won't have to," May's words were convincing and he held onto them with all his strength. "We're close. I can _feel _it, Phil. Can't you? Doesn't this mating call give you that feeling?"

"All I feel is the urge to carve."

"I've noticed your fingers."

Coulson laughed but he felt no mirth; he felt hollow, his mind tormenting him as his fingers continued to draw the pattern on his pants. "I've thought about chopping my fingers off - and then my toes to be safe - but I'm pretty sure I'd just use my nose or mouth."

"Whether you feel it or not, we're close. Everyone's working on it."

"Yet we don't know what to look for…" he trailed off and his hands began to shake; he needed to carve more than just an imprint on his pants.

May sighed sadly and handed him a knife. "Here."

The urge was too strong and he went to the wall, beginning to carve; the pleasure from the action was mind-numbing. He could hear nothing except the sweet scratches, feel the precise movement of his fingers around the knife; his soul was soothed. He continued, the rhythm of the echo demanding it, and he would satisfy; he wanted to keep feeling this pleasure.

Eventually, Coulson's eyes opened and he felt the semblance of control return to him; he looked at his work, the same exact carvings he had been producing for months.

"It's almost beautiful," May said quietly, standing next to him. "There's a logical progression, but I can't describe it."

"Because it's alien," he finished. "I've stared at it more than I stared at my mother as a baby, but I've gotten nowhere. And no one else will, either. Nobody will find anything."

"You're making assumptions when there can be none. Why don't you let Fitz or Simmons examine it? Perhaps they can map it out and create- "

Coulson snapped his gaze back to the carving and something clicked; he felt the echo in his mind churn with confirmation. "That's _it,_" he breathed out, euphoria threatening to overwhelm him; he finally did it! "It's a _map_. I know it. A map!"

May stared at the carvings, "I think you're right. It's… an alien map."

"Exactly!" He felt excited for the first time in so long, the relief better than any massage. "As a matter of fact, I do want Fitz and Simmons to look at. Better yet, get everyone in here."

"Are you sure? They're going to be furious that you kept this a secret, particularly Morse and Hunter."

"I don't care. Better now than later. I want them to see this. I want all of them. It's time to be honest about why this is so important." Coulson laughed freely and swung his arms around, "Oh, my hands are tingling, May. This excitement, I've never felt anything like it. It's like my blood is singing, dancing in delight. I didn't know I could feel this way."

"It's your joy, Phil. You haven't had enough of it lately. Enjoy it."

He flashed back to the alien he had seen at the base when getting the GH-325 to save Skye's life after Quinn had shot her under Garrett's bastard orders.

"It's mine now," Coulson swallowed as May departed, going to gather everyone. "It's mine."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Have you been here before?" Skye asked, peering at the bar from the passenger seat. "Are you sure this is it?"

Grant nodded, "Years ago. John took me here; it's a meeting place for Hydra operatives after a mission. The man I want should be here; rumor is that he was thrown in the doghouse."

"So, do I say 'Hail Hydra' if someone talks to me?"

A smile pulled at his lips, "No. Don't talk to anyone unless I give you permission. Don't make eye contact."

"_Those rules should've been set way earlier!" _John shook his head in disappointment, _"Then maybe you wouldn't- "_

Skye gripped the handle to the door. "You ready?"

He exited the car and with Skye by his side, they entered the bar. The thick beams on the ceiling were as he remembered; the light was dim and the bar was mostly vacant, although the few men were obviously Hydra Agents. Each table and booth had a burning candle, but the light seemed to be sucked in by the overall darkness of the room.

"_The candles are new,"_ John observed dryly. _"Is Hydra doing séances these days? Maybe you could pull the real me back, son."_

The bartender stared at him, inclining his head. "It's on the house. Whatever you want."

Grant pulled Skye towards one of the back booths, "Send the waiter."

The booth had a flickering candle in the center, sporadically offering more light. Skye sat down slowly and Grant slid next to her; he had a perfect vantage point of everything.

"_This_ is a Hydra bar?" Skye asked in wonder, moving her head to stare at the decor; she nearly moved across him with her movements. "I never would've thought."

"That's the point. Order a drink; it will calm your nerves."

"I'm not nervous."

"You will be."

The waiter approached and Skye ordered water; he ordered a scotch, having not had it in over half a year. Grant looked around the bar and finally saw Bakshi; he was pressed against the wall of a booth near a door. Bakshi's eyes were riveted on him, disbelief and fear in his stare, and he remained in his shadows of observation, the protection of darkness a brief reprieve, a refuge from reality.

"_What a pussy,_" John chortled. _"Look at him!_ _This was Whitehall's right-hand man?"_

"_Wait._ That's Bakshi!" Skye hissed, "What is he- "

"He's in the doghouse," he replied, not looking at her. "When he comes over, don't say anything. In fact, move more against the wall. He's afraid and that creates unpredictability. No matter what he says, don't say a word. Don't look at him; raise your hand, shield your face. Lay your head down if you want. I don't care but look at the wall. Not him."

"Why- "

"It's for your own good, Skye. It'll be better if he can't identify you. He might know your face."

"_I disagree,_" John snapped. _"Give her to the crows, son."_

Skye did as she was told and Bakshi finally moved; it was a slow, painful journey to their booth. He edged past one of the tables and stood before their booth, eyes fearful.

"Why did you come _here?" _Bakshi hissed, running a hand along his sweaty brow. "What is it I did to you?"

"The food's good," he shrugged innocently, carelessly. "From what I remember, the scotch's not bad, either."

"You have a lot of nerve- "

"I have a lot of restraint. Normally, you'd already be dead."

"Get _out_. Please."

Grant narrowed his eyes, "Don't make me angry, Bakshi."

Bakshi slowly sat across from him; his eyes moved toward Skye's form. "Very well. Who… is she?"

"Not a concern."

The waiter returned with the drinks and Grant took his scotch, sliding Skye's water to her; he took a sip of the scotch and suddenly realized that alcohol wasn't going to affect him. At least he could taste it - and it was as good as he remembered.

"When you _murder_ our next President, your own brother, everyone with whom you're in contact is a concern. It's astonishing that you're still alive. Your brother was going to begin the next stages of Hydra's evolution, and you have prevented that. They say that the Heads are _furious._ You're going to answer my questions. Who is she?"

"You ask me that again, I'm not going to be in a forgiving mood. She's unimportant, a fly on the wall."

"She's a very beautiful fly."

"Then consider her a whore," Grant said lazily and kept his gaze on Bakshi, gripping Skye's hand to keep her from speaking; he knew what her reaction would be, so he tried to prevent it and he was successful. Skye hardly reacted; he felt proud. "One exclusive to me."

"_Finally!"_ John cried out, _"You're being honest! That's all she is, son. Mean older brother recognized it. How else would she have been able to convince Phil to be put on the transfer? I bet she offered to- "_

"It's a profession in which she would clearly excel, but why lie to me?" Bakshi gestured to every other Hydra Agent in the bar. "To us? Everyone here will kill you if I give the order. You should know that. Why lie?"

"I don't like you. Your face reminds me of someone. I want to shoot it."

Bakshi noticeably tensed and pathetically tried to remain calm; he wasn't successful. "Then my men will kill you."

"Will they?" Grant exaggeratedly observed all the men in the bar, who made no attempt to hide that they were watching him. "They look like dying horses."

"_Put them out of their misery, son!"_ John hissed, rubbing his hands together with anticipation. _"Add the girl to it! How many times do I have to order you- "_

"As the higher Agent- "

"Do _not_ pull rank because I'm above you. You're full of shit. I'm the most senior Hydra Agent here, almost anywhere because I'm John's _heir._ From what I've heard, you're no longer Whitehall's successor; you fucked up and were demoted, cast out of the line of succession. What happened?"

Bakshi's fist curled on the table, knuckles clawing at the wood. "S.H.I.E.L.D."

"_Preachin' to the choir,"_ John groaned. _"It's always S.H.I.E.L.D., isn't it? Says a lot about favorite-playin' Fury and tight-ass Phil."_

Grant nodded in understanding, "They're remarkably lucky and persistent. It's a wonder they aren't dead. I could use a good story."

"I don't think- "

"Consider that an order."

"Very well… Mr. Ward." Bakshi swallowed and it was amusing to see such a once-proud man reduced so low. "My failure to keep Donnie Gill useful- " he squeezed Skye's hand to keep her from reacting, "- led to great displeasure from Mr. Whitehall, but I was still trusted. Errors are committed by the best of us."

"But it became a mistake, didn't it?" Grant asked knowingly, "You fucked up again."

"_You bet he did!"_ John pointed dramatically at Bakshi,_ "Look at him! He has one of those faces. I've never seen such an arrogant-looking pussy._"

Bakshi's eyes flashed, memories of humiliation and rage flooding him. "When it was discovered that I failed to identify not one, but two S.H.I.E.L.D. moles, both of whom escaped alive with critical intel, I was reduced to _this._ Mr. Whitehall was unforgiving."

Grant felt the urge to look at Skye for confirmation about S.H.I.E.L.D. moles, but ignored it; her hand spasmed in his own but she still followed his instructions. "Speaking of Whitehall, I want to know where he is. I want a meeting."

"Mr. Whitehall is a busy man."

"He'll make time to see me. Since I'm John's heir, I'm technically one of the Hydra Heads." Skye tensed but Bakshi didn't notice, staring at him in shock. "Whitehall doesn't want to create a riff, does he?"

"_Your obvious pride is flattering, son,_" John chuckled. _"Though I'd still be alive if you hadn't fucked up. I should still be one of the Heads. Not you. You know how long and hard I worked to get there? Twenty years. Now you come in getting the position based on your relationship with me. I call horse shit!"_

Grant did his best to ignore the words, the way they gnawed at his heart. "You haven't answered me. Be thankful that I'm not John. He would've gouged out one of your eyes by now. I'm considering it."

"_Damn right!"_

Bakshi paled, dark eyes wary. "The other Heads must vote- "

"And they would want me to join them. John's position hasn't yet been filled by a pretender; they're _waiting_ for me. Why else haven't they filled it? If they're so angry about my brother, why haven't they tried to kill me?"

"Everyone thought you were dead."

"You're _gullible_. Only a fool would believe that. I'm the best; it should be common knowledge." Grant leaned forward, "Whitehall's in a precarious position. Despite their differences, John respected him; he recognized survivors."

"Your point about your capability to rise in Hydra's ranks and your speaking in the past tense notifies me that Mr. Garrett… did not survive. No one, not even Mr. Whitehall knew if Mr. Garrett had either been captured or- "

"John's dead," the words were painful, mind-shattering, but he spoke them calmly; he could do nothing less. "S.H.I.E.L.D. murdered him. Coulson ended his life, his second chance, so know that I hold no _sympathy _with them."

"_They're your enemy,"_ John whispered enticingly. _"You'll do me proud when you slaughter Phil and his disciples, the bunch of do-gooders."_

Bakshi bowed his head, "I'm saddened to hear such doleful intelligence. Mr. Garrett was a great man, a visionary- "

"Get your tongue out of my ear," he snapped, ignoring the way Skye jerked to look at him, astonished. "You sound like nothing more than an over-enthusiastic_ dog._"

"_I think that's how he always sounds, son. Wouldn't surprise me."_

"Forgive me, Mr. Ward," Bakshi swallowed, barely maintaining eye contact. "May I ask what your point is about Mr. Whitehall?"

He controlled his temper, "Von Strucker's overseas, and from what John told me, has been experimenting with Loki's Sceptre- "

Skye's control vanished; she stared at him, aghast, the words astonished. "_What?_ Lo- Loki's Sceptre?"

Grant glared at her and she swallowed before slowly turning away; he knew he would answer questions later.

"_Keep your whore in line!"_

Before he could level the glare at John, Bakshi spoke. "You were saying, Mr. Ward?"

He turned back to Bakshi, "Von Strucker and Whitehall's rivalry has advanced into dangerous territory since Hydra's Uprising. Before, they were united by the common purpose of ensuring the Uprising went according to plan. Now, with Hydra in power, they're rivals to resources and funding for their experiments. Von Strucker would sooner see Whitehall dead than face-to-face."

"Unfortunately."

"From what I know about Malick and his relationship to Pierce, I can only assume that Malick took Pierce's place, becoming the figurehead for Hydra."

"_Malick's one of the biggest bullshitters I've ever met,_" John declared. _"And I've met a lot of them. He gives Fury a run for his money. Did I tell you about the time when- "_

Bakshi nodded slowly, "That's correct, Mr. Ward."

"So that means there is one other vacancy besides John's, leaving an open position since I am John's heir. Malick has expressed his distaste for Whitehall and favor for Von Strucker many times. Surely you know of it."

"Of course."

"Exactly. Whitehall could use a friend; he's outnumbered and barely surviving. I'll even the odds, so to speak; it will be two versus two. After all, I'm _dangerous. _S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson want your Master's head."

"Not to mention Gonzales' sect."

Grant didn't react to that unexpected and unknown news; he squeezed Skye's hand to keep her from interrupting. "Gonzales is determined."

"He has to be," Bakshi looked at him and he stared back. "He's made himself a rival to Coulson. Mr. Whitehall, more than once, has pointed out how messy S.H.I.E.L.D. has become: Rival factions competing for Agents."

"_Doesn't that sound familiar?"_ John asked rhetorically, _"What's that shit about cycles?"_

He sifted through his memory and discerned that Gonzales was Robert Gonzales, one of Fury's old commanders; he had never met the man but John told stories about him. "Hydra has fallen into the same problem. The rivalry with Whitehall and Von Strucker is well-known. I can be the friend to Whitehall that Von Strucker and Malick haven't."

"I have noticed that Mr. Whitehall has enemies when he should have friends," Bakshi admitted slowly. "It has concerned me, but I never inquired about it to Mr. Whitehall."

"You weren't curious? A rat shouldn't be able to resist such a tasty meal."

Bakshi's lips thinned, "A lamb never treks into the lion's den."

"But lambs are surefooted; they could trek properly."

"They're _cautious_ of the predator."

"_More like timid,"_ John snorted. _"What a perfect description of this pussy."_

"Because the lion is infinitely stronger, faster, and more aggressive." Bakshi leaned forward, eyes blazing. "Everything was going fine until _you_ left your den. Do you know what could happen?"

"I'm flattered," he drawled. "You're smarter than you look."

"How else have I survived this long?"

"_Dumb luck,"_ John answered immediately. _"Look at him, son. He wouldn't even be able to stop a child from climbing on him."_

"There's a manhunt searching for you. You could have led them here, compromising our- "

"You're exaggerating," he calmly took a sip of the scotch. "It's insulting you think that."

"You sitting here could- "

"You're sitting here because I _allow_ it."

Bakshi swallowed, "Forgive me, Mr. Ward. My emotions temporarily seized control. It will not happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't," he frowned harshly and was satisfied when Bakshi stiffened. "I'm willing to be a friend to your Master. I can help him."

"_As you helped me, son?"_ John snarked and he stiffened at the sound, _"Look where that got me. Phil made me a fuckin' puddle!"_

"Although Mr. Whitehall has gained a valuable friend to help with the Obelisk, that does not help with Von Strucker and Malick." Skye's hand squeezed his, allowing him to relax, and he was proud that she didn't interrupt. "You can be the remedy. Here is Mr. Whitehall's information, the secure line, known by only six people in the world." Bakshi slipped him a piece of paper. "I trust you will discard it when your business is concluded."

"_What does he take you for? An amateur?"_ John sounded furious and he was relieved it wasn't aimed at him. _"Rip out that tongue, son._"

Grant ignored John and pocketed the paper. "Tell me about this friend. Will he and I have problems?"

"I guarantee it. Mr. Zabo is severely unstable, _unhinged_." Bakshi looked around cautiously, "He has already killed over a dozen men; his strength is unnatural. I honestly don't know why Mr. Whitehall permits his presence beyond the useful knowledge he possesses."

"Which is about the Obelisk," he pressed and Skye tensed but Bakshi didn't notice. "He knows about it?"

"Yes. It is his only useful quality. Mr. Whitehall believes that the Obelisk is the key to beating death."

"_Maybe I should have had this Obelisk,"_ John hummed. _"Maybe it would have done what the GH-325 couldn't. But Whitehall didn't share his toys. That son of a bitch!"_

Grant was certain this man who Bakshi spoke of was Skye's father but wasn't going to tell Skye yet; maybe not for several days. "So it's true? Whitehall's quest is for immortality. I've heard stories."

"Mr. Whitehall recognizes that knowledge accumulates with age. He was a favorite of Herr Hitler's."

"_What a segue!"_ John laughed boisterously while Skye gasped but thankfully didn't interrupt.

"Carry on," he gestured calmly. "She won't say anything. I could use a history lesson."

"Herr Hitler and Mr. Whitehall were of the same realization: To live longer is the key. It was the obsession they both shared."

"You're talking about the theory of the Aryan bloodlines," Grant said in realization. "How it was polluted because of interbreeding. Once the 'Master Race' was purified, their lifespans would increase, leading to the Thousand-Year Reich."

"_That's some bullshit."_ John shook his head, scoffing. _"I'm not surprised. Hitler was insane enough to go after the Commies while still dealing with the Brits."_

"That was Herr Hitler's obsession, but Mr. Whitehall was determined to discover the key to immortality through any means necessary. The Fürher gave him free rein. Limitless funds. It's how Hydra became allied with the Nazis. Red Skull and Mr. Whitehall ensured it."

"And it was all made possible by the greatest monster in history," Skye interrupted, words floating in the air.

Bakshi turned to look at her, "If you have something to say, I'd be obliged to hear it."

Grant stared at her, hand squeezing her own; her face was still partially hidden from view.

"Hail Hydra," she declared and he was able to glimpse the gleam in her hypnotic eyes.

Concealing his amusement, he turned back to Bakshi. "You're making me angry. Tell me why."

"_Make him piss himself, son!"_

Bakshi swallowed, "I'm… talking to her."

"It's your last warning. Carry on with the history lesson."

"Mr. Whitehall recognizes that humans are at a severe disadvantage; it's our only flaw. Of all species on Earth, we require the longest gestation period and development. It is not limited to physical development; there is intellectual, as well. It takes over two decades for complete physical maturation in males, and often over another decade for complete mastery of one's craft."

"_I never put that much thought into it as Whitehall. I just like living."_

"Depends on the craft," he added.

"Very true. Someone like a surgeon may be into his fourth decade until he is truly competent. Mr. Whitehall has opened my eyes. The process of learning and progressive mastery continues, but what happens when it reaches its height?"

"_You get fucked up,_" John barked bitterly. _"Old age hit me early 'cause of that I.E.D."_

Grant began to understand, "You lose strength, stamina. You slow down."

"Very good, Mr. Ward. Mr. Whitehall will gain a valuable ally in you. The eyes begin to dim, and fingers lose their meticulous control and precision! The sands of time steal what one spends half a lifetime learning. It's evolution's poorly-timed joke," the frustration in Bakshi's tone alerted him that there was a true belief in Whitehall's philosophy. "Mr. Whitehall was fond of speaking of Sisyphus, how the bolder will inevitably roll back down the hill despite having pushed it up there. Mr. Whitehall's experiments have all explored the limits of mortality. You see, a man can live to a hundred years if he's blessed. Mice live for two years. Horses for thirty. Bowhead Whales live up to two-hundred years. One Greenland Shark lived for _four-hundred_ years. Why is that?"

"_Luck of the draw,"_ John asserted. _"Lucky, lazy fish!"_

"Men create but destroy; they kill each other," he shrugged. Skye remained quiet but he knew she was listening intently, fascinated. "There's war and disease."

"Quite true, but there's still so much more. Our species is obsessed with self-replacement instead of advancement. Look at how we reproduce our knowledge and skills through institutions such as schools and universities. What if the learning curve didn't drop? What if once you reached the height of your potential, you stayed there and continued to accumulate more knowledge? Sisyphus' boulder wouldn't hurtle back down the hill! Through his experiments, Mr. Whitehall has extended his lifespan and he plans to replicate the process for his friends."

Silence.

"No wonder John respected him," he said at last.

"_I thought he was strange, eerie."_ John sounded thoughtful, a rare occurrence. _"It was those eyes. That's what Flowers' eyes reminded me of."_

"I respect Mr. Whitehall more than anyone," Bakshi's eyes were miserable. "I hope he realizes that and I will eventually return to his side."

"You've been helpful. I appreciate it."

"Is there anything else with which I can be of help?"

Grant brought the drink to his lips, "Tell me what you know about Dr. Zenfield. I've never heard of him."

"Never _heard_ of him?" Bakshi echoed in disbelief before his face and eyes became alarmed, terrified. "Are you testing me?"

"That's none of your concern. Answer the question."

"Bu- but there wasn't one."

"_What a smartass!"_ John chuckled, _"Maybe he's not such a pussy after all."_

"Don't be a smartass. Your usefulness is fading."

"Dr. Zenfield is retired. You… know it as well as I do."

"What else do we both know? Remind me. Answer the question to the best of your ability. Perhaps Whitehall will be inspired by your loyalty and memory. I could put in a good word for you."

Bakshi was tense, "Dr. Zenfield was Dr. Zola's protege; he was brilliant, beyond the mind of anyone except his mentor. He worked with Dr. Zola on the Winter Soldier Project for years, aiding in the final stages of creating Hydra's greatest asset in the 1950s when he was only a teenager. He was a once-in-a-generation prodigy, quite like Dr. Zola, and was found when he was eight-years-old, and brought under Dr. Zola's care. From there, his learning progressed astronomically and he became integral to Hydra's success."

"_Not as integral as you-know-who,_" John mockingly whispered. _"I still can't believe they fucked up and let him get away. He'll never be found. How much you wanna bet he starts killing Hydra by the hundred?"_

Grant ignored John and hid his displeasure; those were things he already knew about Dr. Zenfield. "You're not keeping something from me, are you? Don't lie. I'll know if you do."

"_No!"_ Bakshi squirmed in his seat, fear in his eyes. "Mr. Ward, these are things you should- "

"Do _not_ tell me what I should know," Grant snapped and Bakshi whimpered, hunching inward, trying to protect himself.

"_Nevermind. He's still a pussy,"_ John said in disgust. _"Just shoot him and be through with it. Then kill everyone else if they start something."_

"What projects besides the Winter Soldier did Dr. Zenfield work on, Bakshi? Don't fail a simple test."

Bakshi's eyes were wide, terrified. "Don't kill me. Please_._"

"_Kill him."_ John begged, _"Please."_

"Answer the question."

"Th- there were rumors about the Deti Project. It had something to do with the Soldier. That's all I know."

Unfortunately, Bakshi was telling the truth.

"Where's Zenfield now? Where did he retire?"

"They say his home in the mountains in Virginia. It's an hour away from- "

"Mount Vernon," he said instinctively, a flash of something hovering in his mind.

"Yes."

Grant downed his scotch, not knowing how he knew that information; he dimly noticed that Skye hadn't touched her water. "We're leaving. You've been a great help, Bakshi. I'll meet with Whitehall and put in a good word for you."

Bakshi nodded awkwardly, "Of course, Mr. Ward. Anything to aid a fellow man of Hydra. Mr. Garrett had always spoken so highly of you."

"_I still do!"_ John smiled charmingly, _"I'll always be here to make sure you don't fuck up, son._"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye was unable to keep the thoughts of Bakshi from flooding her mind; the stark similarities between Ward and Bakshi stole her breath. Both were loyal to unfeeling monsters, were willing to move heaven and earth to please them, and felt broken when separated from them.

Then what did Bakshi mean about a rival S.H.I.E.L.D. faction led by some guy named Gonzales who claimed he was the Director? Was there another group inside S.H.I.E.L.D.? Was it another Hydra Uprising-like event that was going to happen?

"Who did Coulson send into Hydra?" Ward asked, breaking the silence as they traveled to Virginia. "Tripp? One of the lower Agents?"

Skye bit her lip, "Simmons."

"I'd appreciate that, since I haven't lied to you, you would return the favor."

"I'm _not_ lying," she protested. "None of us knew. We all thought Simmons was taking time off or something, not that she was in _Hydra."_

Ward turned to look at her for a brief, but lasting moment. "_Simmons?_ Coulson sent her into _Hydra?_ He's more insane than I thought."

"She wasn't alone," she felt the need to defend Coulson, even though she had felt the same ever since she had learned of Simmon's role. "Morse was there, too."

"Morse?" Ward sounded thoughtful, "She could do it. Bakshi deserved the demotion if he was fooled by Simmons. Morse should fool him, but not Simmons. Which safe house did Morse reveal? What information did Simmons give them?"

Skye stared at him, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Standard Hydra procedure for recruiting someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. is to gain a return; it proves the recruit is willing to be part of Hydra. Morse and Simmons had to give up something of value to be trusted. Morse, since she's a known Specialist, would probably have to give up locations of safe houses or other Agents. Simmons, probably something about science."

"They didn't give up anything," she didn't feel as confident as she should. "Coulson wouldn't have- "

"That's how the game works, Skye. Morse and Simmons had to betray S.H.I.E.L.D. to be trusted. I'm _amazed_ that Simmons is still alive. It's unthinkable."

"She's gotten better at lying," she tried not to feel bitter about that.

Ward nodded calmly, "Everyone handles change and grief differently. I imagine Simmons entered Hydra to feel useful because she couldn't fix Fitz."

Skye's fists clenched, "Don't forget the role you played in everything."

"I don't. It's a fascinating overcompensation on Simmon's part. All of your actions were overcompensating from what happened, at least before you believed me. Honestly, her surviving in Hydra tells me more about Bakshi and Whitehall's incompetence than Simmons' courage or ability to lie. Hydra's leaders are weak."

That reminded Skye of something Ward had said to Bakshi, "Is it true? Are you… a Hydra _Head?"_

"It's similar to a monarchy, in terms of who succeeds each Hydra Head when they die. The official procedure is a vote of the remaining Hydra Heads, majority wins, but that's not usually what happens. Each Hydra Head is different, has different motivations and goals to see their dreams reality. Though if you look at Von Strucker and- "

"The one who has Loki's Sceptre, right?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell Coulson?" Skye exploded, "We would have gone and gotten it!"

"You would've failed. Von Strucker's in Sokovia in a fortress. You'd be slaughtered. As to why I didn't tell anyone, nobody asked." Ward said calmly but before she could retort, he spoke again. "So, if you look at Von Strucker and Whitehall, they're actually similar, but they're methods are different. Pierce liked John because their branches were similar: Enhanced soldiers. It's actually how John became one of the Hydra Heads: Because of Pierce. Usually, the Hydra Head grooms a successor, their personal protege, and the vote is only for show, a reminder of the past. Yes, I could claim John's position and become a Hydra Head since I was his protege."

Skye stared at him, processing that information; she remained quiet for several moments. "But there's one other position open, right? There's… _you_, Whitehall, Von Strucker, and… Malick. Right?"

"Yes. I imagine that Malick will bring someone in eventually. He's the only Hydra Head I've never met. From what John told me, he's obsessed with an alien entity and creating some kind of portal. John thought he was full of shit."

"Does he still think that?" She challenged, "Why don't you _ask him?_ If anyone's full of shit, it's _him._"

Ward sighed, "The only time John was full of shit was at the end when he went insane. I didn't recognize him; he was _gone._"

"Then why are you mad at Coulson for killing him?" Skye asked bluntly; she could still remember the way his voice sounded when he had renounced S.H.I.E.L.D. to Bakshi. "Garrett was clearly insane - and that's before the GH-235."

"I told you: Because I could have _fixed_ him." Ward's eyes darted to look up at the rearview mirror; she knew he was staring at the ghost of Garrett. "I would have. I _always_ fixed him. Whenever he had attacks, it was me who pulled him out and reset his box. I would have pulled him out of that GH-325, whatever it did to him. I needed more _time._"

Skye controlled her breathing, "The more I hear about yo- your _devotion_ to Garrett, the more concerned I get."

"Why?" Ward glanced at her, and both the irritation and confusion were authentic. "There was _never_ anything wrong with- "

"What do you call abandonment in the _woods_ for five years?" Skye's arms flailed, the sudden force of her emotions erupting past her. "What do you call kidnapping? _Conditioning?"_

"I was _never _conditioned like a - what did you call it earlier? - a Pavlovian dog. Everything I did was _my_ choice. I made the call on each of them."

"But Garrett is who wanted you to kill Fitz and Simmons! And Hand!" She cried out, "He gave you orders and yo- you followed them like a- "

"Like a _what?"_ Ward asked lowly, dangerously, "Finish that thought."

She bit her lip, "A soldier."

"That's not what you were going to say."

"No," she admitted. "What I first thought was wrong."

Ward exhaled slowly, "If John needed me to be a dog, I was one. I never minded. I always did what was best for him. Best for us. We were survivors; we understood each other. Anything he needed, I did it. He pulled me out of hell, gave me a second life, and ensured no one would ever fuck with me. He taught me about the world and what I needed to know, how I needed to train to survive with the best, and he made me the best. John gave me everything so I would stop being weak and I owed him more than that. My life was… it was meaningless without John; I was nothing without him. It's why I tried to kill myself, but then when he came back, everything… it realigned."

Skye swallowed thickly; it was blinding, the realization that Ward had, despite his denial, been brainwashed. Everything started to click in her mind, conjured puzzle pieces joining in symmetry.

The brainwashing wasn't through like what happened to Donnie Gill, but meticulous abuse, both emotional and physical. It was the constant order of messages about how the world works, using strong-sounding logic and deceitful promises to manipulate his perception. Ward's entire childhood - and everything that she had heard was probably tame to how it actually was - broke him down; it hollowed him out, as he had admitted. It was a nightmarish abusive scenario and when he finally got out, Garrett had snatched him.

That monster spent fifteen years methodically grooming - _how she hated that man!_ \- Ward into the perfect killing machine who would destroy the world to do what Garrett wanted, to save him. Garrett conditioned survival in Ward, and the lasting effects of his childhood trauma, watching the death of his twin brother, ensured that survival was learned to its fullest. Ward's entire worldview was shaped by Garrett who clearly manipulated him for over fifteen years! When Garrett was thankfully killed, he couldn't live without him, and that manifested in Garrett's ghost, who Ward admitted he communicated with.

Skye felt sick as she realized that it was a very real possibility that if she hadn't believed him, Ward would have gone crazy, killing everyone he could, especially with Garrett whispering in his ear. S.H.I.E.L.D., including her, had kept him in isolation, taken away his voice for months, responded to all of his attempts to explain himself with hostility, ignored and - in her ashamed case - encouraged his suicide attempts, used physical violence against him, Fitz could have murdered him, and worst of all, Coulson had almost eagerly sold him back to Christian, Ward's childhood abuser.

She wavered in her seat, the realizations staggering, mind-shattering. Garrett had conditioned in Ward that caring about anyone and relying on other people was a weakness, only surviving matters, and that without him, he would never be of value. Instead of discouraging that thinking, they had proved all of Garrett's teachings when Ward was in Vault D. Skye realized how lucky she was that she had finally matured enough to look into Ward's past; she had wanted to know the truth and the truth was what might save Ward.

"Remember when you told me that it was weak to rely on something or someone other than yourself?" Skye's eyes opened slowly; she peered at his silent form. "When we were talking about the Avengers and Iron Man. Something about having your own strength- "

"What about it?"

Skye took a deep breath, "Don't you think you relied on Garrett instead of yourself? I mean, even after he's dead, you see and talk to his _ghost._ Isn't that… reliance?"

Ward stiffened painfully and she prepared herself. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know everything, but I do know some things. Enough to know what I'm talking about."

"It was _John!"_ Ward snapped and the words were so suddenly loud that she flinched. "He made me a man and I vowed to do whatever I could to help him. I repay my debts."

Skye stared at him, "But didn't you say that you owed Garrett more than everything, which is actually impossible? That's an unpayable debt."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't. You've said that if Garrett had survived, you'd start a security gig or something. How long would you have stayed with him? The rest of your life?" She ignored the way the steering wheel seemed to shudder in Ward's grip. "What kind of life would that be, Grant? It's… like a child who can't let go of his parents. It's like Batman."

"John was the only father I ever had," the words were hissed and Skye was aware of the way the veins in Ward's neck were tense, pulsing. "You should understand."

"I do understand what it's like to have a father when you thought you'd never have one, but what you had with Garrett was _more_ than… a father-son relationship. Can't you see that? It's slave-like, waiting to do your Master's bidding. It's like Darth Vader and The Emperor - and I _know_ you understand that reference."

"_Stop._ I did what John wanted me to- "

"But what if you didn't want to do it?" Skye challenged, "By always doing what Garrett wants, aren't you… I don't know, taking away your own freedom?"

"_No._ I freely did what John wanted. What John wanted, I wanted."

"And when he wanted you to kill Fitz and Simmons, did you want that?"

Ward exhaled raggedly, "You already know the answer."

"I want to hear you say it."

"_No_… I didn't want to kill FitzSimmons."

"Exactly," she leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing softly. "Surely there was another time when you didn't want to do what Garrett wanted."

He didn't react, but something about the way the air bristled alerted her that she was correct.

"Wanting what John didn't was unacceptable; the pain of failure was too much."

Skye's eyes widened, "Di- did he _hit_ you?"

"When I deserved it," he said it so casually that she choked on a gasp. "When I fucked up and put the mission at risk."

Skye squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her trembling; she didn't know it was possible to hate someone as much as she hated John Garrett. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say; she shouldn't feel surprised but she was. "Yo- you didn't deserve that."

"I don't want your _pity,_" Ward glared at her heatedly; his eyes were on fire. "I deserved it. I was being _weak_ and John helped me; he was the only one who ever did. No one else ever gave a damn about Grant Ward."

"I _do!"_ Skye snapped and wished she could see the ghost of Garrett; she wouldn't have a problem shooting him! "Why else am I here? Why else do I listen and believe you? You don't have to listen to _John_ ever again! Others care about you besides him, Grant! Look at me and Fitz!"

"I didn't know that draining the oxygen out of- "

"You _know_ what that was," she shook her head. "Don't pretend you don't. You're _smart._ You know psychology and stuff. Fitz encouraged me to talk to you! He doesn't hate you, not like everyone else does."

"He should," the words were surprisingly soft. "I nearly killed him. It was almost like Thomas."

Skye's eyes widened and she suddenly saw the similarities between the med pod and the well; both involved people he cared about drowning. "Thomas never hated you. You told me that. Fitz doesn't hate you, either. He's an amazing guy."

Ward looked stiff, "Fitz reminded me of Thomas. I hated him at first because of it… but he grew on me like a fungus. They're both clever, sharp, and so smart. They're both physically weak, frail, but it didn't stop them."

"Did it stop… Ruth?" She asked quietly, "Your sister? You said that you only heard her speak once."

"She and Christian, from what I actually remember, were… our main caretakers." Ward's voice was flat; she hated it, how emotionless and dead he could sound. "Even though they were still children, that's how it was. But what about Jasper? See, I don't _know _what's true in my memories and what isn't."

"What was Ruth like?"

"She never spoke but… she _always_ knew how I felt, what I needed. She hugged me and secretly fed me. She was the mother our mother wasn't, but because she never spoke, and because she was _always_ crying, I didn't like her." Ward's tone darkened, self-loathing evident, "Even though she probably loved me, I'd hurt her because she didn't do _anything_. She was being… weak. It made me angry. If anyone could stand up to Christian, it was her, but she never did. I hated her for that, how she did nothing to stop the torture."

"But she fed you, right?"

"Being starved wasn't torture, it was normal. She never stopped Christian from beating me up, or forcing me to beat Thomas up."

Skye swallowed, "Has it… occurred to you that Ruth might have been forced to not do anything? Your brother, his words _made_ me put that gun to my head," she shuddered, the phantom feeling of the gun pressed against her head haunting. "That's what he did to you, right? Made you beat up Thomas? What if he did the same to Ruth, making her not interfere?"

Ward remained quiet for several tense moments, "I… didn't think of that."

"Something to think about," she murmured, looking out the window, and the silence was all-encompassing.

She closed her eyes and pressed her head to the window; she was mentally exhausted from verbally and philosophically sparring with Ward, and while she didn't regret it, she needed rest.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"He asked about Dr. Zenfield?" Whitehall asked softly, thoughts shifting and evolving into natural courses of action. "Are you certain?"

"_Yes. I would never lie to you, Mr. Whitehall,_" Bakshi informed on the phone. _"Mr. Ward asked about the projects with which Dr. Zenfield was associated."_

Could it be? Had Garrett hidden him under their noses for over a decade? Had he been in the heart of Hydra with no one the wiser? It was so simple, so unthinkable, but yet it might be the truth.

Whitehall leaned forward, feeling excitement for the first time in years. Not even during the Hydra Uprising had such anticipation flowed in his veins. "What did you tell him?"

"_I told Mr. Ward about the Winter Soldier Project and the Deti Project, of which I know only that the Soldier was integral. Mr. Ward demanded Dr. Zenfield's location and I dutifully reported it. It was information he already knew. I believe it was a test."_

"Elaborate."

"_Mr. Ward knew that Dr. Zenfield lived an hour away from Mount Vernon. Immediately, after revealing his knowledge, he grabbed the girl and left."_

"Girl?"

"_He called her a whore. There is no doubt that she would excel at such a profession, but it was a lie; he was mocking me. I believe the girl is helping him. She expressed distaste for Hydra and Herr Hitler."_

"You've been briefed on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s known Agents. Did you recognize her?"

"_No, Mr. Whitehall,_" the shame in Bakshi's voice echoed. _"Mr. Ward ordered her to sit a certain way. I was unable to properly view her face, but based on the shape of her body, it is possible that she works as a prostitute. The way she angled her face to keep me from observing, even when she spoke in interruption, indicates training. I would have attempted to view her face, but Mr. Ward became enraged when I spoke to her. I feared for my life."_

"Understandable. There are few killers of his great caliber to exist in my lifetime. When he rediscovers his talents, he will be the most dangerous man on Earth. He will be the new Asset - under my control. I will properly utilize him. With him, the creatures' habitat will fall and immortality will be secured. The Obelisk will make it so."

"_I also must report that Mr. Ward asked for a meeting with you. Expect a call from him."_

"I anticipate it. You may return to me and resume your previous duties, Bakshi."

"_Thank you, Mr. Whitehall. Never again will I disappoint you."_

Whitehall hung up the phone. Grant Ward was Grant Ward. That was a stunning development and Garrett had made it possible, the simple-minded cretin. The man had been obsessed with survival, but his methods were poor and distasteful. He had never done much to contribute to Hydra, becoming a Head merely through his relationship to Pierce, but perhaps Garrett's greatest contribution was the protege that had been able to murder Christian Ward.

It seemed unthinkable, Christian Ward being killed, but it was the truth; the plans for a Hydra-controlled White House vanishing because of Grant Ward. But since Grant Ward had asked about Dr. Zenfield, it opened the possibility that Grant Ward was Grant Ward, not an imposter who Garrett had shaped. They wouldn't need Christian Ward anymore, not with his brother's stunning return, and it was better this way.

There was one problem.

Dr. Zenfield, once brilliant, had succumbed to age; he was old, decrepit, and mournful. He would need to be eliminated before Grant Ward visited him, thus revealing truths.

"Agent 33," Whitehall called out, standing to his feet; she stood at the corner, prepared. "You have a new mission. One of vital importance for Hydra's future."

"I will not fail, Dr. Whitehall."

He stepped toward Agent 33 and stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek. "Soon, a brother will join you. He will be perfect, everything his mother designed. Compliance is rewarded, and to ensure his eventual compliance, Dr. Zenfield must be terminated."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****Skye deals with the fallout of the Senator's revelations! She demands answers and learns that Thomas was Ward's twin (it makes more sense with what I'm doing for the story; it will be explained) and that Ward is seeing Garrett. **

****Coulson finally figures out that the carvings are actually a map and decides to reveal the truth to everyone! I know that this had pretty much already happened in Canon at this point, but it's an Alternate Universe of Season 2, so it just took a little longer. **

****Ward meets with Bakshi at the bar with Skye! Okay, so some things have definitely changed regarding Bakshi. He failed Whitehall multiple times in Donnie Gill and failed to know that S.H.I.E.L.D. had planted moles. The fact that there were no repercussions for his failings didn't make sense, so in this, Whitehall is instead furious and demotes Bakshi to a basic Hydra position; he's in charge of the bar. I wanted to give Whitehall more of a reason for wanting to be immortal because the immortal-seeking villain is so overdone. Some of what Bakshi said to Ward about Whitehall is from **_**The Sigma Protocol**_**. **

****Skye talks with Ward more and confronts his loyalty to Garrett! Skye definitely won the round, using Ward's words against him and he can't deny it. Although he still has a long way to go.**

****Bakshi calls Whitehall to relay the location of Ward! Bakshi was always a rat, so he would totally do something like that. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	6. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant could see the massive mansion in the distance, and his feeling of dread returned; it was made worse when he realized that he knew exactly where to go. Somehow, he had been to Dr. Zenfield's estate before.

The realization inspired, to his anger, fear, and he felt weak - _he hated it!_ Why did he know this place? Why were blurry, foggy images flashing in his skull, and why did he hear his mother's voice? The images began to rapidly flicker, colors and memories assaulting his mind with probing, lethal fingers. Screams of pain burst in his ears, and his vision dimmed as phantom needles pierced his skin, foreign liquid expunged into his flaming flesh-

"Grant!"

He whipped his head to the side, and upon seeing Skye staring at him anxiously, he blinked and controlled himself. "What is it?"

Skye's lips parted, concerned. "You… spaced out. I called your name, but you weren't answering. If I was Black Widow, I could have totally killed you."

"_And if I wasn't dead, I'd beat your ass!" _John barked out, clapping his hands together rapidly, sounding like machine-gun fire. _"After having yanked your head out of it, of course."_

"Sorry," he bit out softly. "I… know this place. I don't know how, but I do."

"Are you okay?" Skye's eyes were gentle, concerned, and even though it was a weakness, he welcomed it; he couldn't get enough of her.

"No. But the only way I will be is by getting answers. Zenfield knows them. He _has_ to."

Skye nodded slowly. "How do we do this?"

"_Amateur,_" John scoffed out. _"She's just gonna slow you down, son. For fuck's sake, get rid of her already! She's compromising your mission, you damn lover boy!"_

Grant stared at the approaching mansion before he stopped the car. "Take the wheel. There will be cameras. I don't want him getting cold feet if he somehow recognizes me. If it's you, he won't be suspicious."

Before she could question him, he exited the car and entered the back, lying to the floor, knees curled into his chest. Skye hadn't moved, staring down at him, eyebrows furrowed, "Wouldn't it be easier if you did it?"

"_She's proving my point!"_

"Yes, but it's not realistic. I somehow _know_ Zenfield, and that means he knows me. I don't know how we know each other, but it had something to do with my mother. Zenfield is Hydra and he'd probably try to run away if he saw me driving the car. This way, he won't see me."

"But… isn't he like a 100-years-old?"

Grant paused. "He's old, yes, but I'm not taking chances. I trust you."

Skye climbed into the driver's seat and she adjusted the mirror; the car started moving again. "So what do I do? What if he has security?"

"Very good," he praised, shooting a triumphant look at the irritated John. "You're in the right mindset. Drive by the mansion and tell me what you see. Are there guards posted? What about cameras? Then I'll tell you what to do based on what you see."

Eventually, after several minutes of silence, he noticed Skye crane her head to stare past the window. "Um… there's _no one._ I don't see anything. I think… it's abandoned."

"_All that work for nothing._" John groaned in dismay. _"What a waste."_

Grant frowned and hid his anger, not at Skye, but at the situation. "Turn back around and stop in front. I'll take a look." Skye turned the car around and when she slowed down, he peeked his head above the window sill. It did look abandoned. The grass was tall, unkempt and mired with weeds. There were no guards, but upon closer inspection, the lights on the not-so-secretly-hidden-cameras were blinking. "He's here. The cameras are on. Drive through and go around the back."

"Why?"

"In case a Hydra team arrives because Zenfield somehow alerts them. They'd use the front door. The back door will give us time to escape. Notice the landscape; the only place for an infiltration squad to hide is from the front, not the back."

"_Does this remind you of that time when we were fucked outside Tibet?"_ John asked with a laugh. _"I told you our heads were gonna be on pikes, but you said 'Fuck that.' Then you- "_

"Grant!" He blinked and looked away from John; the car was stopped and Skye was staring down at him in concern. "Are you ready?"

Anticipation thrummed in his blood and it danced with the newfound strength; he exited the car and angled his face away from the cameras. "Let's go."

Grant moved Skye against the lining of the mansion, guiding her. They stayed silent as they crossed around to the front of the house; the pillars of the front entered his eyesight and he had to physically force himself to keep his stride calm.

"Are you sure he's here?" Skye whispered. "I mean, this feels weird."

"_It's weird that the girl is with you!"_ John glared at him. _"You should be doing this by yourself."_

"Here's what's going to happen." He stopped in his tracks, focusing on her. "You're going to ring the doorbell. If the doors open, just stand there; don't move. If a voice answers from inside, say that you have an urgent message from the Heads- "

"Why do we want him to think we're _Hydra?"_ she hissed out, eyes searching his own. "What are you doing?"

"Zenfield's already suspicious. The fact we came here and the mansion is abandoned tells me that no one is expected to show up. His first thought will be Hydra. You'll play into that, lull him into a false sense of security. He'll let down his guard."

"Fine. So, I say there's an urgent message from the Hydra Heads if he doesn't open the door, but… what if he says to… I don't know, slide it under the door or stick it in the mailbox?"

Grant smiled, feeling pride. "_Very_ good. You're learning. Say the message is verbal. That it's important."

"What if he wants… to know my identity? What if he asks me something about Hydra?" Skye's eyes filled with anxiety. "Something only someone of Hydra would know? _Quick!_ Tell me something only a Hydra Agent would know."

"If he asks, tell him to 'Fuck off' and walk away. Say someone else can deliver the message to his corpse."

Skye sighed in annoyance. "That is such a guy thing to say. He wouldn't believe me saying it."

"_She's slowing you down!"_ John roared. _"She's bitchin' about inconsequentials!"_

"You'd be surprised," he countered, ignoring John. "Your reaction will instill fear and he won't be able to resist. Don't worry. If he tries anything, he'll soon forget about you."

She moved to the door and Grant pressed himself against the wall, out of sight. Skye rang the doorbell. After forty seconds, a voice answered; Dr. Zenfield was ready.

"What is it? Who are you?"

"I have an urgent message from the Hydra Heads." Skye glanced at him and he nodded encouragingly. "It's a verbal one, not a… written one."

"Hmm…" The door opened and Grant saw Skye's eyes widen. "A… _girl?_ This is a new method. What is the message?"

"More of a reminder," Grant said, stepping into the doorway to loom over the man in the wheelchair.

"You _insane _girl!" Dr. Zenfield cried out, horrified. "Get _out!_ Get away from me!"

"Apparently, we have unfinished business, Doctor," he hissed out, jaw clenched. "Don't _ever_ call her insane. It pisses me off."

"You are already angry! Oh, if your objective is to kill me, do it! _Please!"_

Grant narrowed his eyes. "You know who I am?"

"How could I not?" Dr. Zenfield's face was pale. "The warnings have been _unambiguous!_ You are soaked in the blood of my colleagues and I will join them. Do it quickly! I have lived long enough!"

"_You heard him!"_ John hollered out in laughter. _"He gave you permission. Get your information, and then slit that wrinkled throat."_

Feeling confused, he didn't allow it to show on his face or be heard in his voice. "Then cooperate, and I'll get my hands dirty."

"Hands?" Dr. Zenfield echoed and unconsciously moved his gaze to Grant's left arm; the Doctor stared at it for several tense moments before his eyes bulged from his sunken flesh. "_What?_ I- I thought you…" The milky eyes suddenly squinted up at Grant's face, peering at him, and the sight of those eyes - _eyes that he instinctively knew should be a vivid green instead of milky!_ \- caused him to stiffen, more foreign images pricking against his consciousness. "Who are you?"

Grant stared down at Dr. Zenfield, the man he had heard stories about in Hydra, for several tense moments, utterly confused. Then he grabbed the flabbergasted Skye, pulled her inside, and shut the front door.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Skye had first seen the wheelchair, all she had felt was confusion. She didn't see an evil Hydra Scientist who had been that Zola guy's protege, only a poor, weak, and semi-blind old man. But then Dr. Zenfield had reacted with such terror when Ward appeared that it had frightened her. Had Ward somehow been killing people and she had been unaware? But then Dr. Zenfield had stared up at Ward, and his semi-blind eyes proved that he had mistaken Ward for someone else.

But who could have scared Dr. Zenfield like that? Who could Ward have been mistaken for?

Now, after having subconsciously led them to a sitting room, a tense silence enveloped the elaborate interior of the mansion. Ward and Dr. Zenfield were staring at each other, neither speaking, but Skye's eyes were drawn to the jaw-dropping decorations; the expensive paintings and furniture were visible at every angle that she looked from.

"You want it? Take it." Skye turned to face Dr. Zenfield; he squinted at her, milky eyes shining with sadness and remorse. "I have no need for any of this. Go ahead. Take what you want. May they give you more happiness than they ever brought me."

Before she could respond to his shocking offer, Ward spoke. "You've done well for yourself. Hydra compensated you generously for your _talents._"

"I was young. It is not an excuse, but the truth." Dr. Zenfield's old face slowly creaked to face Ward again. "I was given free rein, and curiosity overwhelmed morality. It is the far reach of all men; they want to be remembered, to accomplish feats never before imagined. I succeeded but at the cost of my soul. I shook hands with the Devil, and damnation awaits me."

"So you met Christian?" Ward drawled and Skye wondered if Garrett's ghost was pestering him; she didn't doubt it, and she hated it!

Dr. Zenfield stared at Ward, a terrible look in his old eyes; he looked fearful. "Grant Ward," he murmured. "You returned from death. This is my penance, my _punishment_. "

"Not quite. Your penance is to answer my questions. Have we met?"

"In another life, but you hold no memory of it."

Ward stepped closer, "_Why?_ Why can't I remember? I know Christian did something, but what was it? What did he do to me?"

"It is what you did to him. You nearly murdered him. Ironically, you were uncontrollable, untameable. You were everything we wanted, but… we were arrogant. We believed that we could harness fire and not be burned. Your brother's gift is through his- "

"Was."

A pause. "Christian is dead?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I killed him."

Dr. Zenfield's eyes spasmed shut. "I feel no surprise. The animosity between you two could never be quelled. We _tried,_ but nothing worked. It culminated in you attempting to murder him at fifteen - but he narrowly escaped."

Having already known the information, Skye wasn't surprised by the information itself, just by the way it was mentioned so calmly, casually.

"But what don't I remember?" Ward asked. "What did Christian do to me?"

"After the murder attempt, in which you nearly succeeded, it was unanimously decided by the Hydra Heads with my input that you were not ready; you needed more time and discipline. We pushed Christian's gift further, invoking him to lock your mind, taking away all knowledge of and memories associated with your gifts and strength until you were mature. Ready to do Hydra's bidding as the new Asset. But that future vanished when Ophelia challenged my orders and allowed you to enter the Juvenile Detention Center as punishment. You disappeared, and in your place, was the photograph of a dead boy."

Skye's jaw dropped and she paled, staring at Ward with wide eyes as the strength in her legs fled; she gratefully sat on the couch, and he hardly reacted, only a terrible tightness entering his frame.

"What else?" Ward's voice sounded different; he looked lifeless, staring at Dr. Zenfield with unseeing eyes. She felt her blood chill over; he was emotionless, a blank slate, dead to the world, heart and soul shut down. It was terrifying, but she couldn't do anything about it! What would happen if Ward allowed himself to feel such… horrible truths? "Don't lie to me. It won't turn out good for you if you do."

"I was content before you came here." Dr. Zenfield's hands shook on the handles of his wheelchair. "I was not forced to ruminate on my regrets."

"Tell me about these regrets."

"Death would be more kind. You know nothing of what… I _cannot_ relive them. The pain is too much."

"Then we'll make it a deathbed confession."

The Doctor sighed. "Your persistence is as I remember."

"Then you know there's no avoiding the inevitable. Answer my questions. How did all this… start? What _happened?_ Why do you know me? How?"

"The Devil came disguised to me as a beautiful woman. That woman was your mother; she was stunning, brilliant, but dead inside." A flash of bitterness swept across the sunken, ravaged face. "She is who did this to me, confined me to this chair."

"My… mother paralyzed you? You knew her? She was Hydra…"

"Better than anyone. After the photograph of your corpse was received, your mother came to me. We fought. I told her she was responsible for your death, for the destruction of the project on which we spent decades. She was displeased, and when my back was turned, it was the last moment I ever stood on two feet."

"What else?"

"You are ill-equipped to comprehend more information."

Ward's jaw clenched. "You are ill-equipped to make that judgment."

"This is mercy, something which I should have given you long ago. You do not want to know; you are not ready. You never will be. You should have had a normal life, not what your mother and I orchestrated."

"Try me."

"And divulge more secrets that I have spent my life concealing?"

"But what kind of life was it?" Skye suddenly spoke, challenging Dr. Zenfield; she met his semi-blind gaze evenly from her position on the couch. "You said earlier that none of this stuff here has brought you happiness. What life have you had? Clearly, it wasn't a good one, so what do you have to lose?"

"Plus you're old," Ward pointed out and she stared at him, aghast at his bluntness. "You're gonna die anyway."

The Doctor's lips twitched before he nodded. "I concede to you. If they take my life, they will not be taking much. I… I will answer your questions."

"What was that reaction on the porch?" she abruptly demanded, the confusion echoing in her tone. "You thought Grant was someone else."

"Someone who terrifies me more than you know. My vision is not what it used to be. _Nothing_ of me… is what it used to be. I thought Grant was his father."

"_What?"_ Skye looked to Ward, who still didn't react to anything; it was disconcerting. "I thought… your brother killed your parents."

Ward stared at Dr. Zenfield, eyes dim with shadows. "Alfred Ward wasn't my father?"

"No. Alfred was merely your mother's husband, another ingress through which Hydra could enter the legitimate political sphere."

"And my… father?"

"Your father has been hunting Hydra since his liberation; it has been estimated, according to what I know, that the lives of over a thousand men have already been snuffed out in his quest to exterminate Hydra itself, all of the old scientists, every man ever part of his creation and containment. He is _angry,_ and everyone ever part of his program has been warned to put their affairs in order. He has become wrath incarnate; there is no escaping him. I believed that he had finally found me; my poor eyes could only see _him_ until I realized that both of your arms are flesh_._"

Skye didn't understand, but Ward's eyes closed briefly in understanding. "The _Soldier_."

"Yes. Your father was one of your mother's many obsessions. Perhaps her greatest."

"What are you talking about?" Skye demanded. "_Soldier?_ What soldier? Who are you…" She trailed off, the memory of Coulson talking about Captain America's recovery appearing in her mind, how all signs pointed to someone with a metal arm beyond anything she could imagine pulling him out of the Potomac.

"The Winter Soldier," she whispered in realization; her gaze snapped to the emotionless Ward and patient Dr. Zenfield. "The _Winter Soldier?_ No, no, _no._ That's not true… I- I don't understand."

"You may close your ears to the truth, but it will not be silenced," Dr. Zenfield said not unkindly. "Fear not, for you are not alone. Grant is as much in the dark as you. Perhaps more so."

"Bring me out of that darkness," Ward snapped suddenly, the force behind his words causing Skye to flinch; he glared down at the Doctor. "Tell the story. _Everything._"

"This story begins with me but, certainly, it will end after me. Your mother came to me, and she was willing to sacrifice anything, allow the lusts of men to fill her to get what she wanted. To fulfill her mission in a world where no power or respect was in her possession."

"That's unsurprising," Ward concluded flatly. "What else?"

Dr. Zenfield seemed to shrink in on himself. "No. I will not be the one to inflict more pain on you. These truths must never be spoken. They must not live on; they shall die with me. I will make it so."

"What do you want in compensation? Money?"

"There is nothing I want from you. I'm an old man filled with regret. My children are dead, my wife left me years ago, and my bloodline will die with me. I'm sorry, Grant."

"I don't want your fucking apology!" Ward snarled, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. "I want _answers_. You want to repent for whatever you did to me? Then give me my answers. Hold nothing back."

Skye saw Dr. Zenfield's eyes shut. "The world was changing, and Hydra had to evolve to match it. The Heads foresaw that The Soldier would eventually become incapable of proficiency as technology advanced; a new, superior Asset would be needed. For nearly a decade, the Heads quarreled like boys in the schoolyard, but no decision was reached. Yet, Ophelia envisioned the future; she saw two men, two brothers both serving Hydra. One acting in the shadows and one in the light, both elevating Hydra's position and power through their acts."

"That's what Christian meant," Ward murmured, eyes dark. "He said we've always been Hydra."

"You need not be privy to more- "

"Keep going."

Dr. Zenfield sighed and Skye was incapable of speech; she could do nothing but sit and listen to this horrible truth.

"Your mother was obsessed with genetics and eugenics. _Fascinated._ She was the world's foremost geneticist and biochemist, and she regularly took blood from The Soldier to analyze it, study it. Determine what Dr. Zola did, what he used in his efforts to create his Super-Soldier. Dr. Zola's notes confirmed that Sergeant Barnes was exceptional before his transformation, but as The Soldier, he became unparalleled and unique amongst any man, above any challenger. That truth fueled your mother's obsession. She found many things in the blood, but she never concluded how Dr. Zola did it." A flash of bitterness crossed the old, ravaged features. "Nobody ever did. I tried many times, but not even Odysseus could trick Dr. Zola into revealing the information."

"What did my mother find in The Soldier's blood?"

"She determined several non-human, unidentifiable markers, which she believed were alien in origin. She hypothesized that the Tesseract might have perhaps influenced Dr. Zola during his work on Sergeant Barnes. Perhaps influencing Sergeant Barnes' enhancements."

Skye's jaw dropped but when she looked at Ward, his face was blank. "It makes sense," he said tonelessly. "Nobody has ever successfully replicated the creation of a Super-Soldier after Rogers and… Barnes disappeared. Every government in the world has tried, spending millions, if not billions of dollars for trials and experiments. None in the U.S. could replicate it, and men like Howard Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s brightest geniuses were part of the numerous attempts. Banner was working on it, which is what led to him becoming The Hulk, but he was unable to replicate it. If the Super-Soldier Serum was composed of… alien markers, then it would be impossible to replicate. It matches."

"If what you're saying is true…" she began but was cut off by the Doctor.

"You misunderstand. Men deceive, predominantly, to save face. I do not have that motivation. I recognize my evil for what it is. Hell awaits my soul."

"Continue repenting," Ward ordered darkly. "What else about The Soldier?"

"Your father is genetic perfection, but Ophelia had determined that evolution needed a further push… or sacrifice. Her victims ranged in the thousands; she was a kindred spirit to Dr. Mengele."

"Mengele?" she asked. "Who is that?"

"A Nazi Doctor," Ward's voice was devoid of emotion. "A living nightmare in the Auschwitz extermination camp who experimented on humans. He was called The Angel of Death."

Skye shuddered, nausea blossoming in her stomach. Ward had a woman like that for a mother?

"Yes." Dr. Zenfield nodded sadly. "When Ophelia was finally ready, pleased with the experiments she conducted, she came to me, proposing the Deti Project, which later, after the births of Ruth and Christian, evolved into the Hellfire Project - you. The genetic potential of The Soldier's progeny is unmatched, and when your mother verified that the genetic perfection and enhancements were transferable to his offspring and could be augmented into something _more _through various splicing of the D.N.A., I agreed to her proposal after she convinced me more…"

"After you fucked her," Ward finished flatly.

Dr. Zenfield bowed his head. "The Hydra Heads were joyful and poured billions into the projects."

"What was supposed to happen?" Skye asked in a whisper; her heartbeat was erratic and she did nothing to control it. It was insane! "What was… the goal?"

"The new Fist of Hydra was to take his father's place; he was to be superior in every way."

Skye's eyes closed and she inhaled shakily. "I don't understand. Grant is… the project?"

"The Soldier, one of two Super-Soldiers to ever exist, and Hydra knew Barnes was the superior model, offered the genetic material for a new weapon. A _better_ one."

"Be- because you feared the future?" she asked in disbelief, anger beginning to seep into her tone. "That's _insane!"_

"No, not insane. _Inhumane._ The realization that the world was rapidly changing invoked the fear of the Heads; they determined that a new Asset would, inevitably, be needed."

Before Skye could rant or rage at the Doctor, Ward spoke. "And how was a new Asset going to be created?"

The Doctor looked at one of the paintings; his voice seemed to come from everywhere. "When The Soldier was periodically loaned to the former Soviet KGB for two decades, it was eventually discovered that one of the Widows, the Soldier's favorite and greatest student, had corrupted him."

"Corrupted him?" Skye echoed, mind rebelling against everything the Doctor revealed. "What does that mean?"

"The Widow weakened The Soldier, humanized him; through her body, she rendered him mortal, a mere man instead of the incarnated Mars Dr. Zola created. She was Delilah pilfering Sampson's strength through the allure of her flesh. Decades of works were nullified, and she nearly absconded with all the power. With The Soldier solely loyal to her, she would have been unstoppable. But it was not to be. The Soldier and Widow attempted to escape, and if not for the betrayal of someone whom The Widow trusted, they would have succeeded. Those who are aware of what happened still speak about it. The Soldier's rampage that day…" Dr. Zenfield brought a shaking hand to his mouth and wiped away the sudden moisture. "It was only the capture of The Widow that stalled his assault. Hundreds died in a single night by The Soldier's hands and it was all organized by a woman."

Skye sat, stunned, but Ward didn't even bat an eye; she didn't understand how he was so composed, so unflappable.

"Was it the Red Room they tried to escape from?" he asked and Skye remembered the files that she had read about Black Widow after the S.H.I.E.L.D. data dump; she had been raised in the Red Room.

"Yes. While The Widow corrupted The Soldier, a new idea emerged from their illicit union after the fallout, presented by Ophelia; she wanted to secure The Soldier's progeny - the Deti Project."

"Oh…" she whispered and began to understand. It sounded like a sci-fi movie or something, but there was no running away from reality - _it was real!_

Dr. Zenfield suddenly shriveled; his face was a mass of agony. "_Please_. This information, it's- "

"You stop talking, I'll shoot you," Ward barked out. "Don't be stupid. Or be stupid. I don't _care_. Either way, you're going to tell me what I want to know."

"You were always capable of great rational cogitation," Dr. Zenfield pleaded. "Use that now. I know you can. _Think_ this through. You believe you need this information, but you do not. Once you know something, your perceptions are forever altered."

"Unless Christian takes them away!" Ward snapped furiously and Skye's heart jumped in her chest.

"Your brother is dead. Nothing can take this knowledge from you, Grant. This burden is undeserved; you do not _need_ it. Not after everything to which your mother and I subjected you."

"That's my call to make, _not _yours. Tell me."

Dr. Zenfield sighed. "The Soldier was capable of copulating as The Widow who broke through his programming had demonstrated, but a new female would take her place: Your mother. When it became apparent that The Soldier was impotent with anyone but The Widow, we acted; we acquired her, and millions of dollars were spent for proper containment so The Widow would not unleash more chaos by corrupting The Soldier again. As they copulated, Ophelia was prepared, and when The Soldier ejaculated into The Widow, they were swiftly separated. Invading The Widow's body, we collected all of The Soldier's spermatozoon and delivered it to Ophelia, who impregnated herself."

Skye sat, bile rising in the back of her throat, stunned, brain sputtering in disbelief and horror - _it was sci-fi!_

"Why?" Ward asked, and she didn't understand how he was still so emotionless. She was starting to freak out! "Why not have The Widow… bear The Soldier's children?"

"That was the original plan, for The Widow was the ideal candidate to bear The Soldier's offspring with her own unique genetics, but it was discovered that the Red Room spays all the Widows; they are forever incapable of bearing children. Your mother demanded that she take The Widow's place to bear The Soldier's offspring, and after consideration of her desirable heritable characteristics, such as great intelligence, that could be passed on to her children, I agreed to her proposal. The pregnancy took hold and the experiment was replicated three times over nine years. As each pregnancy took hold, Ophelia and I experimented, injecting chemicals into her womb, drawing DNA from the zygotes and influencing it, splicing it, ensuring genetic perfection. We were painters and potters; you were the canvas and clay. Only The Soldier's offspring would ever survive such experiments, such genetic manipulation, and it was a success. Your mother was a genius; even Zola praised her. A rare occurrence."

"And I was one of those children," he concluded darkly, the facade of calm quickly deteriorating. "Ruth. Christian. Me. Thomas."

"Thomas Ward was never supposed to exist," Dr. Zenfield corrected softly; the words seemed to physically hurt Ward as he took a stunned step back and Skye was frozen - and this time, it wasn't because of the Senator. "You, Grant, were supposed to be Hydra's greatest weapon in the new century as you were the final birth, the zenith of everything toward which Ophelia and I had worked. The splitting of the fertilized egg was an accident, Nature's unpredictable tenacity."

Ward's face spasmed with emotions Skye feared to recognize. "If we were genetically perfect weapons fathered by The Winter Soldier_,_ why was Thomas so frail? _Why?"_

Dr. Zenfield met Ward's glare with mournful eyes. "You were the strong twin. Despite being genetically identical, something went wrong during your mother's experiments. Somehow, they were imprecise. As you grew, maturing into the weapon Hydra would need, it became apparent to me what happened…"

"_Tell_ me!" Ward roared and Skye swallowed, the desperation on his face wounding her; she could do nothing but listen, her tongue too heavy to form words.

"Not _this._" Dr. Zenfield stuck out his chin, milky eyes gray with intensity. "Anything but this. It will destroy you."

"Not before I destroy you."

"You do not want this knowledge; it is better this way. This is not a recommendation, but a prescription."

"You're not a _Medical Doctor!"_ Ward's sharp-featured face was carved with intensity, gorgeous eyes furious. "You don't get to do that!"

"You are opening Pandora's Box! Once opened, there is no blissed ignorance. _Think_ about this, please. I have wounded you enough."

"Tell me, or you'll end up in Hell to see my mother and Christian again."

"Threatening my life will not bring what you want."

Ward's eyes crackled. "But inflicting pain will."

"_Stop!"_ Skye cried out, tongue finally responding. "This won't solve anything."

"Listen to your lover, Grant."

Skye's lips parted but before she could say anything, Ward snarled, "You're manipulating me."

"Not anymore. Your destiny was never ours to claim, no matter if we spawned your existence. I see that now, and my remorse outweighs the heaviest burden."

"This is my decision. It's about _me._" Ward leaned down and was almost nose-to-nose with Dr. Zenfield; Skye stared, her heart rapidly beating. "You owe me. You say you feel remorse? _Prove_ it. Tell me everything. What happened to Thomas? Why was he frail and weak?"

Dr. Zenfield inhaled raggedly. "The initial postulation was that Ophelia's experiments were imprecise, but… no. Thomas was frail, small, and physically limited because you took everything."

Ward froze. "_What?"_

"Thomas received nothing in your mother's womb while… you _thrived._"

Skye blinked, not understanding, but since Ward remained frozen, she knew it didn't bode well. "What does that mean?"

Dr. Zenfield slowly looked away from Ward, turning his old, semi-blind eyes to her. "In their shared womb, Grant took everything, leaving nothing for Thomas. Thomas should have died, been absorbed by Grant, but because of his perfect genes, he survived and still grew despite receiving nothing. No nutrients, no hormones, no chemicals, no serums. Because Grant absorbed it all when he should not have, taking it all for himself; he grew stronger, _better._"

"No," Ward protested, voice cracking and wavering, and Skye jumped to her feet when she noticed that his hands were shaking; she rushed to his side, trying to help him in any way she could. "No, _no. _I- I wouldn't."

"I did not want to tell you," Dr. Zenfield murmured painfully. "I'm sorry. Your mother knew, but all she felt was pleasure. For you showed such incredible survival instincts - even then as a mere fetus. No one, not Thomas, would prevent you from surviving."

Skye couldn't breathe, but that wasn't her concern; she stared at Ward's pale, blood-drained face. He wavered on his feet and devastation swept across his features; he looked like he was going to weep. She tried to pull him to the couch, but he wouldn't budge - _it felt like trying to pull a truck!_ He was locked in place, hazy, broken eyes riveted at what she suspected was Garrett's ghost.

"Grant," she whispered consolingly, squeezing his numb hands. When he didn't react, she panicked and brought her hands to his face, ignoring the stubble, and started rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs; she gazed up at him desperately. "_Please. _You're scaring me. You need to sit down."

"I need a bullet through the brain," he mumbled in a daze. "I'm the reason. It was _me._ Tommy wa- was nearly a cripple because of me."

Skye swallowed and couldn't remember a time when she had felt so helpless.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Agent 33 slowly assembled the sniper rifle, pulling parts out of the case, fingers nimble but methodical. The targets were in the mansion; she had seen them with the binoculars. Initially, her mission was solely composed of eliminating Dr. Zenfield, but when she had used the binoculars, she had recognized a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent from one of the numerous briefings.

Dr. Whitehall would be pleased with the woman's termination.

The assembling of the rifle was complete, and Agent 33 seated it into the bipod; she stared through the scope and frowned upon seeing the targets suddenly move out of view. The thought that she had been compromised crossed her mind, but that couldn't be it. There was no way for any of them to know where she was. Their movements were slow, unhurried, but just rapid enough that she wouldn't risk a shot yet.

The moment they moved back into view, and they inevitably would, Agent 33 would fulfill her mission, pleasing Dr. Whitehall; she would be rewarded.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye had managed to gently coax Ward to the couch, Dr. Zenfield following, but a terrifying silence had descended upon them all. She continued rubbing her thumbs in a soothing manner across his ashen cheeks, but since he had nearly collapsed on the couch, Ward hadn't moved. She felt overwhelmed, and she could do nothing but mentally replay the revelations revealed by Dr. Zenfield.

It was astounding, terrifying because everything she thought she knew about Ward, what she had come to understand, could be fundamentally wrong - _he wasn't even Ward!_ Should she still think of him as Ward knowing that his father wasn't Alfred Ward but actually The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes? Captain America's brainwashed best friend?

Grant had been designed as a weapon for Hydra; his entire existence was to be a true robot, incapable of autonomous thought and actions. Skye shuddered and to her utmost horror, she actually felt a shred of gratitude to Garrett for kidnapping Grant out of juvie and abandoning him in the woods so no one would find him. What would have happened if Garrett had never found Grant?

Skye had been asking herself that ever since she learned about the true relationship between Grant and Garrett after she killed Donnie Gill, and always naively believed that somehow, Coulson would have found him. But now, after hearing Dr. Zenfield's tale, she realized that Grant would have most likely stayed with his family - _with his bitch of a mother!_ \- to become the new Asset for Hydra - _a horrifying thought!_ \- who worked alongside The Winter Soldier, and just maybe, Hydra would have succeeded with Project Insight utilizing such a deadly combination.

"I'm sorry, Grant," Dr. Zenfield finally said, old face shadowed with memories of horror, things that he had been responsible for. "Knowledge is as much a curse as it is a blessing."

Grant hardly reacted, a subtle tightening of his gorgeous eyes, and Skye felt nervous; she pulled her hands away from his cheeks and instead grabbed his hands, trying to change the topic in the hope that it would pull him out of his head. "Is there anything you can tell us about Hydra now? We could use an edge. It would be protection."

"There is no protection against Hydra." The Doctor stared at her and she was trapped by those old, milky eyes. "Only capitulation."

"But what about the Heads?" She remembered what Grant had told her about Whitehall, how he had probably killed her mother. "What do you know about Daniel Whitehall?"

"Whitehall is a zealot for immortality; his experiments during the Third Reich were legendary. Even Dr. Zola expressed distaste for his methods, although one was unable to argue against the results. He was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. and remained imprisoned for decades. When he was released, he was as I am before you: Feeble. He had months to live, but he returned to his experiments with vigor, and Fate blessed him, for he stumbled upon an immortal woman. What he did to her… it is detestable. He took her life for his own, and ever since, his well-known, obsessed search for powered beings has _gnawed_ at his stolen heart."

Skye didn't even react; compared to everything she had learned about Grant, it was insignificant. "Why?"

"Conjecture suggests he fears retaliation. Whitehall revealed that he knew there was a small community of powered beings somewhere, and that it was from there the immortal woman originated. He, more so, fears death and would commit the foulest human atrocities to continue living."

She didn't dare mention Garrett, not right now when Grant was still quiet from the backlash of the truth. "I don't think he'll be around that much longer. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been looking for him."

"Do not fail to consider the wisdom that accumulates with age. Whitehall is over a century old; there is a reason why he has yet to be found or killed."

"Why do I know this place?" Grant suddenly croaked out and she wanted to touch him, but she feared he would break; he looked that fragile. "I've been here before, haven't I?"

"When you were a child," Dr. Zenfield answered, words spaced. "Every month, you were brought to me, and I conducted tests. You spent much of your childhood here; your life was a script, composed by your mother and I. The last time I saw you was the week before you were enrolled in military school."

"You weren't feeling regretful then."

"You remember?"

"Just a feeling."

"Your instincts are true. My retirement, my forced expulsion from Hydra invoked my buried, forgotten morality. I realized the monster thriving in my heart. One day, I observed a young boy run to his mother in joy, hugging her, squeezing her, his face buried in her legs. It was the first time I had ever witnessed such a scene. Neither you, Thomas, Christian, or Ruth ever acted that way with Ophelia."

"I wonder why," Skye muttered venomously and couldn't keep the rage out of her voice; she felt it float in the air like an odor. "She was a _bitch._ If she was in front of me, I- I think I'd kill her."

"Get in line," Grant said numbly, eyes far away.

"Being away from Hydra brought individuality, something which I had never known before," Dr. Zenfield continued, looking away; his voice sounded from a distance. "I was always part of teams, thinking forever conformed to match that of Dr. Zola's. Hydra made me a monster, but my retirement made me human. There is nothing I regret more than my role in your, your father, and your siblings' lives. How blinded I was; ironic, considering my vision now. When I think of what you can do, how you can take vengeance against anyone alive, against humanity and civilization itself… I was a fool. A damned one. Icarus escaped the Underworld and sits before you. I flew too close to the sun and I was _burned._ Nothing was ever enough for me; it culminated in what I did to you. When I think back, all the evidence was there, the _signs._ So clearly, but I ignored them like the fool I was."

"Signs?"

"Of what you were becoming. You were aggressive, violent, explosive, vicious, and downright hateful. But Thomas, you loved him; he was your lone connection to humanity. When he drowned, any hope of control died with him. Military school was supposed to rectify that, but when you tried to murder Christian, it was the last straw. I'm sorry."

"You've said that already," Grant replied hollowly.

"A lifetime's worth of apologies could never atone for what we did to you." Dr. Zenfield turned his milky, sorrowful eyes to them. "These missing memories for which Christian was responsible, you do not want them. A good life awaits you, Grant; you crafted it. You have a woman who will stand by you. Do not ruin what you have now, and will have in the future, by focusing on your past - what you can and cannot remember."

"But I need answers. Everything about me is a lie," Grant finally began to look in control again. "I'm a… Super-Soldier, but what else? Why do I see flashes of… _flames?"_

"Fire made civilization possible, but its potential for barbarity is even greater. You were created to embody Hydra's ideals: Destruction and rebirth. Fire is the universe's greatest purifier. You were to burn everything to ash, no matter the length of time necessary to complete the task, cleansing the world of our impurity. Thus, leading to a new greater age with Hydra in power. It was an ambition beyond the comprehension of most. It was for what you were designed."

Skye's lips parted, shock and realization competing for dominance; the latter won. "You're like Scorch!"

Dr. Zenfield shook his head. "The man once on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Index? No. That man was an infant in comparison to everything of which Grant is capable. Grant was designed to be a god amongst men; he was to surpass his father in every way, be superior to any possible threat to Hydra."

"But my flames are gone," Grant whispered and she noticed his fingers curling and uncurling. "I… I'm empty," he stated in realization, eyes astonished. "Christian took it away. That's what you meant."

"That's why you didn't have scars from your fath- I mean, from Alfred Ward's cigarettes!" Skye blurted out. "It must be how you burned your house down!"

"It was," Dr. Zenfield confirmed solemnly. "After Christian narrowly, miraculously escaped your onslaught clinging to life, we tasked him to push his gift as far as possible. He succeeded, but for reasons none could ascertain, it became apparent that his gift lost its luster; you were no longer susceptible to his talents."

"That's why his words didn't affect you in the woods," she breathed out, remembering the powerlessness she had felt at being forced to obey the Senator's terrible commands. "That's what he said: You were immune."

Grant stared at Dr. Zenfield. "But why didn't I have my… strength? Why wasn't I a Super-Soldier? Christian took away the memories and knowledge that I had the… flames, strength, and healing, but I would have noticed how strong I was and how fast I healed. I was _normal, _nothing super about me_. _How?"

Skye disagreed that he was normal, but Dr. Zenfield responded, "The definitive answer eludes me, but I do know that your mother, before your incarceration in the Juvenile Detention Center, worked on a formula that would suppress all signs and abilities of a Super-Soldier. It was demanded by the Heads, for you had surpassed everything we thought- "

"What do you mean?"

"The Super-Soldier serum evolved Captain Rogers from someone like your brother - riddled with heart problems, petite, frail, asthmatic, and amongst other deformities - into a man with the strength of at least fifteen men. In comparison, before his transformation, your father was unique, an abnormally gifted marksman, and he landed in the high percentiles for strength, vision, and reflexes. His genetics were already superior before his transformation. He was a natural athlete; excellent, according to those who knew him best. Football, baseball, track, boxing, it mattered not. He was a natural at each of them. In fact, I remember someone once disclosing that your father was a multiple-time boxing champion before he entered the war. You displayed the same greatness as a child, greater than anything Christian displayed. Your mother commented on it frequently."

Grant didn't react and Skye hoped that Garrett wasn't talking to him. "Your point?"

"After your father's final transformation, after Zola finished the process, your father exceeded Captain Rogers in all aspects, for the base form from which the serum worked was superior to Rogers' base form." Skye knew that if Jemma were here, she'd be salivating at all the information or pulling out her hair, muttering about how none of it was possible. She herself was close to pulling out her own hair because she was never going to be able to think about science the same way again - _it was insane!_ "Because you were bred as a Super-Soldier and _more,_ you surpassed the potential we originally sought. You were saturated in Ophelia's womb with serums for the sole purpose of evolution to the highest potential. To ensure your potential exceeded your father's and Rogers'. As you grew when you were a child, you were a Super-Soldier. You entered puberty as a Super-Soldier, and the natural hormones and influx of testosterone that every boy experience was augmented in you because of your perfect genes, your very biology. You were _always_ a Super-Soldier, Grant, but your father and Captain Rogers were not. Since conception, your genes have been perfect. It was not until Rogers and your father were adults when they became, in any way, comparable."

"This is insane," Skye whispered, mind blown. "So Grant's… what, stronger than Captain America and The Winter Soldier?"

"Not right now. From what I understand, Grant has not, for whatever reason, had access to his true physiology. His body needs time to re-adjust to its proper state. But yes, at his peak, Grant was designed to be superior to any human threat posed to him. Unfortunately, Hydra never foresaw the existence of the Asgardians. But the combination of Grant's flames and Super-Soldier physiology elevate him to superior standing amongst any human of whom I am aware save for Dr. Banner."

"That's why my mother was working on that formula?" Grant stared at Dr. Zenfield. "Because… I was too powerful?"

"Yes. A prodigy in all things."

"That hasn't changed," Skye pointed out, and nudged Grant, trying to make him react and was more than relieved when his lips twitched.

"The formula was first tested on The Soldier, and it was another way in which Hydra controlled him, ensuring The Widow, if she were to ever return, could not orchestrate the death and destruction she once did. The formula would be injected daily, and with enough build-up, could last for months before fading," the Doctor explained. "It was designed to weaken you, make you human, allowing Hydra more control over you."

Grant stiffened, eyes widening. "The shots."

"That would be how the serum was delivered."

"I thought they were _enhancements,_" he hissed out, hands freeing themselves from Skye's as he ran them through his thick hair. Skye frowned, not understanding at all what he was talking about. "Anabolic steroids, growth hormones, cellular recuperation. I injected myself every day. I did it for fifteen years. John told me to and I did."

She stared at him in shock. "_What?"_

Grant glanced at her, and the fact that his eyes were clear, lucid relieved her more than she could express through her words. "If you think that every Specialist and most Agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra weren't taking enhancements, you're as blind as Coulson. They were _everywhere_ because they helped with recovery and field performances_._ It was the norm. John gave them to me. He had me start taking them in the woods. What I thought was making me better was… actually weakening me."

Skye tried to wrap her mind around that. "So these shots changed your _D.N.A.?_ That doesn't make sense."

"It does not," Dr. Zenfield said slowly. "But if anyone could accomplish such an unprecedented feat, it was Ophelia."

"John somehow got the serum. He _knew_ about me, who and what I was," Grant whispered, staring past them - _and damn it, she knew he was staring at Garrett's ghost!_ "My blood changed; it wasn't… mutated like a Super-Soldier's. That's why my blood tests never revealed anything. John was protecting me."

Skye was certain - _absolutely certain!_ \- that wasn't it, but she didn't dare tread that path. Not yet. "And now?"

"The serum's worn off. I stopped taking the shots when Hydra left the shadows, and the residual effects lasted for over half a year. I needed a catalyst to jumpstart my system and the adrenaline during the transfer to Christian did it." Grant's fists clenched and unclenched and she wondered at the strength in those hands; she had seen him rip the Senator's door off the car quite easily. "Now I'm functioning at… peak capacity."

"Not yet, but you propose an interesting analysis," Dr. Zenfield commented. "I do not know the context surrounding these events, but your conclusion sounds viable. I admit it's fascinating."

Grant didn't say anything, staring at one of the bookshelves, and Skye's fists clenched; she knew Garrett's ghost was talking to him. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"There are records here of all my conducted tests on Grant and his siblings. There are even videos. Perhaps that might help."

Skye, wanting Grant to not focus on Garrett's ghost, hopped on the opportunity; she jumped to her feet, pulling Grant to his. "_Yes._ That would be perfect."

Dr. Zenfield slowly turned around in his wheelchair and Skye followed him, Grant trailing behind silently. "These videos are not for the faint-hearted. They embody my cruel instincts and creative depravity to- "

A sudden explosion erupted, and Dr. Zenfield was catapulted out of his wheelchair, falling to the floor with a sickening _thud._ Skye had just enough awareness to see the blood leaking out of the hole in his skull when a pair of arms wrapped around her. Another eruption and intense pain sizzled in her arm as Grant tackled her to the ground, covering her body with his own.

Flashes of Ian Quinn shooting her caused her to freeze, fear tangible as it weighed her down, and she saw through hazed eyes the blood streaming out of her arm, through her fingers from where she gripped her flesh.

"_Skye!"_ Grant roared above her, eyes dark and volatile. "Block it out! We need to move! We're _vulnerable!"_

Skye blinked and when another bullet whizzed over them, she felt her control return. "Hydra! We- we need to get _out of here!"_

"Come on!" Grant yanked her to her feet and they raced out of the room, her hand clutching her wound. They passed an exquisite-looking kitchen and other priceless paintings, the sound of bullets following them. Just as they were near the back door, Grant took another turn.

"Where are we going?" she hissed out, heart racing, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"

"Following my instincts. Even though Zenfield was blind, the cameras were functioning. I want to look at the surveillance to see how many are out there."

"You know where it is?"

"I think so."

Skye tried not to allow her grief at such information, a reminder of the time he had spent in this place as a child, and the fact that she had been shot again affect her; the gunshots stopped and a haunting silence was all that remained.

"They killed him," she whispered, keeping pressure on her bleeding arm; it hurt like hell, but she was still alive. "He was helping us, but- "

"It doesn't matter. Not in this world," Grant answered shortly. "Don't forget who he was, what he did to _me._"

"He was trying to be better." She didn't understand why she felt the need to vouch for the now-dead Dr. Zenfield. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of Grant himself, how he was trying to better himself by helping and answering questions honestly. "He knew what he did to… you was wrong; he was regretful."

"And as Stalin was dying, everyone around him refusing to help save his life, I'm sure he regretted everything he did," he responded sarcastically, the words dark and bitter. "It doesn't matter. Zenfield made his bed."

It wasn't the time to argue, but before she could say something different, they came to a room; she immediately recognized the surveillance feed on the screen on a dusty desk.

Grant started cycling through the different camera feeds rapidly and paused when one was static. "This one was destroyed."

"Rewind it to the moments before it was destroyed." She leaned forward and blinked at the small figure; it was a woman.

The woman pointed a gun at the camera and raised her face before firing the weapon, causing the screen to turn static, but the face was unmistakable.

"_May?"_ Skye breathed out in disbelief, gripping her arm tighter, her own blood staining her fingers. "No, no, _no._ Tha- that _can't_ be her."

Grant stared at the paused image of May. "It's not," he sounded displeased. "Look at the height difference; it's not much, but it's there."

"Wh- _who_ is that?" she demanded hysterically, nodding at the frozen image of May, hands shaking, causing blood to spill down her sleeve. "That's not May! It can't be!"

"It's a photostatic veil," he answered slowly. "It can imprint someone's face over your own… Whitehall's been known to use them for his brainwashed Agents."

"But how did they know where we're at? They killed Dr. Zenfield!"

"_Bakshi!"_ Grant snarled and when he turned to glimpse her wound on her arm, she swore she saw flames flicker in his eyes. "He's a dead man."

"What are we going to do?" Skye stared up at him, the atmosphere tense. "Do you think- "

"You're going to stay here in this room and wrap something around your arm. I'm going to take care of Fake May."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The wind was chaotic, unpredictable, enveloped with the teeming shock of bullets ripping through it as they sought to eliminate adversaries. As Grant dashed through the grass, towards the trees where he knew Fake May would be, his mind had descended into deadly tranquility. Nothing would distract him currently, especially the revelations that Dr. Zenfield shared.

"_If you run faster, I think you can maybe outrun the elephant," _John snarked. _"You know, the one that's been following you since you left the girl in that room."_

"Not now," he responded lowly, slowing his pace as he looked for signs of Fake May. "After I take care of whoever this is."

"_I'll be waiting."_

Grant ignored the feelings of trepidation the thought of that conversation caused and slowed his pace, pulling out his weapon when he saw a flash of something in the distance. If it weren't for his enhanced eyesight, and he learned how from Dr. Zenfield - _not now!_ \- only minutes ago, he wouldn't have seen it.

He bolted forward towards the flash, footsteps pounding against the ground; he was no longer concerned with being seen. He'd heal from whatever was shot at him. Dimly, he wondered what would happen if he was shot through the brain, but didn't think about it too hard.

Suddenly, his nostrils flared as an odor assaulted him; he recognized it. It was the smell of the fuel used for Quinjets.

"_So that's how the bitch came,"_ John commented. _"You can ditch the car now. You're about to get your own portable plane."_

Grant saw the running figure ahead, dashing towards nothing but then the air shimmered in front of Fake May. The revealed Quinjet's bay door opened but there would be no getaway.

Fake May had shot Skye. It was unforgivable!

"You so much as twitch, you're dead!" he called out, his pistol aimed directly at Fake May's skull as he walked into the clearing. "You shouldn't have come here."

Fake May froze, a sniper rifle's case held in her hand. No words were spoken and Grant walked closer, observing the hidden weapons on her person, preparing for every way she could attempt to attack him.

"_Not that it'd make a difference,"_ John whispered. _"You heard what the Doc said. You're you-know-who's son."_

Grant clenched his jaw, trying to ignore John. "Who sent you?" he demanded, staring at the frozen Fake May, gun tight in his hand; he nearly crushed it. "Who gave you the order?"

Fake May didn't answer.

His face spasmed, the rage barely leashed. "I'm feeling _very_ pissed off. You're gonna die either way, so if you want a quick death, you better answer my questions."

"Dr. Whitehall," Fake May responded softly, voice deprived of emotion.

"_There goes that alliance you were talking about,"_ John observed. _"Looks like the only one who doesn't want you dead is your girl."_

"What'd I do to Whitehall? I've never crossed him, so why did he give the order for you to cross me off."

"You were to be unharmed. Dr. Whitehall ordered the termination of Dr. Zenfield."

Grant took a step forward. "And why did you try to kill Skye? If I hadn't pulled her down, you would have killed her. _Why?"_

"She is a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. Dr. Whitehall would be pleased with her termination."

"It was your last mistake," he swore and as anticipated, Fake May reacted.

She swung the sniper rifle case up at him, but he stepped back, letting it harmlessly pass his head. Then, seeing her other hand drift to her side, Grant jumped forward, catching the hand holding the pistol before she could shoot. His foot smashed into her other hand, breaking fingers and the sniper rifle's case fell out of her numb fingers. With his gun pointed at her heart, his fingers curled into the flesh and Fake May's face blossomed with pain as the gun fell to the ground.

Grant pinned the second arm with his own, looping his arm around it, trapping her. Her knee came upward, aimed for his groin, but his own leg blocked the attack. He pushed her leg back and hooked his leg behind her own, destabilizing her balance. He delighted in seeing May's features burdened with pain as he crushed her hand that had been holding the pistol, breaking the bones therein.

"_Finish her!" _John roared.

He pulled the trigger and the gunshot was deafening. Fake May's face spasmed, realization overwhelming the pain. He let go of her and she staggered back, slowly looking down to see the blood pooling from her chest. She tried to pull another weapon but he fired the gun again, causing her to spring back, collapsing to the ground, blood mixing with the grass.

Fake May was dead.

"_Looks like Christmas,"_ John said, chuckling. _"It's been a while since I've seen red and green mix together so well."_

Grant placed his gun in his holster and stepped into the open Quinjet. He went to the dash, and as he expected, found the tracking device.

He crushed it between his fingers.

"_Since you're a Super-fuckin'-Soldier, you should've given me all you got!" _John snapped furiously and he stiffened as he turned around, watching with wary eyes as John's transformed into predatory slits. _"You selfish son of a bitch! I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me?" _

The abrupt emotions overwhelmed him, surging past his compartmentalization, everything that he had learned leaving him broken.

"I didn't know, John!" Grant protested, eyes wide; he felt the foreign presence of tears begin to well in his eyes. He didn't even know that he could still cry; he hadn't cried since he was that weak kid who couldn't save Thomas. "I had no idea! I swe- swear on Tommy's life. I didn't _know._ If I did, I would've given you everything! I would've killed myself and let you have anything you wanted. I _swear._"

"_A lot of good your promises are!" _John snarled, whipping his finger up to point at him condemningly and Grant felt trapped, powerless. _"You promised to save me, but what did you do? You fucked up! I counted on you, trusted you. This fuckin' girl of yours keeps tellin' you I treated you like shit, but that ain't true. I've never held someone in the regard I hold for you, but look what that did!"_

Grant ran out of the Quinjet and collapsed to his knees in the grass. He threw-up, the vomit surging upward and out of his gaping mouth; he began to shake uncontrollably, tears of self-loathing spilling down his cheeks.

"It's all my fault," he mumbled with John looming over him. All the emotions swarmed his mind, overwhelming him beyond anything that he had ever experienced; the Doctor's words floated in his ears. For the first time since he realized that John was truly dead, he wanted to die. "Everything. First Tommy with his frailty and then you. You're both dead because of me."

"_Join me in death,_" John whispered enticingly. _"We were always going to work together after Hydra. Come join me. We'll take over Hell and shove mean older brother off his throne of skulls. Together. How it's always been."_

He nodded in a daze, vision blurring, feeling the words curl around his soul; they reached the deepest recesses, anchoring themselves until his heart withered. John was right; it would be what was best. There was nothing for him; he had destroyed everything and everyone that mattered: Tommy and John.

The gun suddenly felt light in his hand, effortless to wield, and colors swirled before him as he pressed the barrel to the side of his head; the cold metal was a sharp contrast to the heat wafting off his skull, thick drops of sweat spilling through his hair and down his face. It would be best to end it now, to inflict more pain on Christian in Hell. John was right; he always was. While Skye had said-

_Skye._

Grant's vision abruptly sharpened and he breathed easier, logic surging forward like a ringing bell, truth the only proclamation.

"_No,_" he breathed out, staring up into John's angry, red face; he dropped the gun and it landed in the grass with the force of a bomb. "My time's not over. I'm a _survivor._ You're not pulling me down with you. I'm not dying. Not today, not _ever._"

John's eyes bulged from their sockets, deprived of words for several tense moments before his face twisted into a mass of rage. _"You pussy! Your ass must be sore because this girl is fucking you so hard! She's got power over you; she's dominating you! You're thinking with your head, alright, but it's the wrong one! You're listening to your dick instead of me! This girl is fucking you up! Clearly, you're not going to kill her, so you need to kill yourself instead. I can't stand seeing you be so weak."_

"You want me to _die?"_ Grant asked in disbelief, betrayal coursing through him. "We're survivors! How can you- "

"_Grow the fuck up! My life is more important than yours! You failed to save me. You betrayed me. It's time for your penance."_

Grant wavered as he stood to his feet. "You're not _real._ You're a fucking ghost; you're not John. John would never want me to… kill myself."

"_He alone knows why._" John's eyes were filled with disgust. _"You've grown weak. You always have been. You're going to stand around and let this girl fuck you? Can't you see what she's doing to you? I do! I've always known! I shouldn't have saddled my life with yours; it was my last mistake!"_

"It was your mistake." His fists curled at his sides as he stared at John; everything that had happened in the past hour had left him compromised, and his rage was so, so close, augmented by the remnants of the Berserker Staff sizzling in his blood. "Don't blame a mistake that you made on _me._ My actions are mine - and yours are yours!"

John's face spasmed with fury. _"Too bad I can't fix 'em. You're pathetic; you were nothing without me! You were fucking dirt! I'm who made you a man!"_

Grant swallowed, Zenfield's words louder than John's. "That's not true, and the real you knew it. I was to be Hydra's next Asset. I'm… The Winter Soldier's _son,_ but you stole me for yourself, didn't you? You saw an opportunity, and like you always do, you took it."

"_And only he knows what he was thinking. I sure as hell don't. I'd have been better off with someone who could actually save me!"_

"And I don't know why I listen to you." He closed his eyes and turned around. "You're not the real John. You're… my guilt."

"_I'm your savior. Have you forgotten that? Everything I did for you?"_

"I never will. I'm still alive because of you, but you're too dead to claim my life and give me orders."

"_Then what the fuck have you been following 'em for all this time?"_

Grant ignored John and knelt next to fake May's body; even though he knew it wasn't the real May, he relished the look of absolute shock on that bitch's face. He pulled the supplies away and immediately realized that the true identity of the woman would be impossible to determine. The photostatic veil was permanently fused to the face concealed beneath, but he didn't care. Whoever it was had been too weak and succumbed to the Faustus Method, and even worse, captured by Whitehall.

How pathetic.

"_What are you going to do about Whitehall?"_

"You don't get to do that," he snapped, not looking at John. "Go back to acting like everything's fine."

"_Why not? You need me, son. You know you need to act against Whitehall."_

"Damn you," he snarled, pulling out the piece of paper that Bakshi had given him. He pulled the phone from his other pocket and dialed the digits on the paper.

He placed the phone to his ear.

"_I assume Grant Ward?"_ It had been a long time since he had heard the voice, but he had never forgotten it. How it sounded completely apathetic, indifferent to anything that resembled morality. Right now, he preferred it to John's.

"You assume correctly," he responded, feeling the compartmentalization slowly start to return. He wasn't sure it ever fully would. "I don't appreciate you trying to kill me."

Whitehall paused. _"Kill you? Agent 33 had explicit orders to leave you unharmed."_

"When I tried to save Zenfield, she shot me. Grazed me, but I hate being shot at. I hate not getting answers."

"_You have my sincerest apologies, Grant Ward. I assume Agent 33 was punished for her error."_

"Permanently."

"_I see. Were you able to speak to Dr. Zenfield?"_

Grant smirked, but kept it out of his voice; he didn't have to try hard to make himself sound frustrated. "No. I was too late. I arrived at the same time as your dead Agent."

"_Your questions were not answered. Is that the source of your aggravation?"_

"What's it to you?"

"_Dr. Zenfield knew those answers, I admit, but he was not the only one."_

"What are you saying?"

"_I, too, know the answers you seek, Grant Ward. If you come to me, re-devote your loyalty to Hydra, you will know them, as well."_

Grant considered his options, but since he already had his answers, no matter how painful, he didn't need to go to Whitehall. But there was Skye; he had promised to help her look into her past. She trusted him now, and she had stayed by his side as they heard Zenfield's confession. He remembered the man who he believed to be Skye's father - Mr. Zabo, Bakshi had said - was working with Whitehall. His decision was made.

"I'll have a plus-one," he finally said.

"_Obtained a lover? You do resemble your father."_

He closed his eyes, remembering Zenfield's words about The Winter Soldier and The Widow who humanized him. "Father? I think you mean mother. My father was about as much a cuckold as you could get."

"_My mistake."_ The words contained no deception and Grant, despite himself, was impressed. _"Forgive me, I misspoke."_

"Will my plus-one be a problem?"

"_Not at all. I am intrigued to meet the woman warming Grant Ward's bed. What siren could entice someone of your… stature?" _

Grant ignored him. "If you try anything, I'm going to rip out your spine."

"_Time will tell."_

He hung up and crushed the phone in his hand.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye gingerly probed the wound on her arm through the rags she had found in the kitchen. She had tried to look at Dr. Zenfield's body but was unable to. Every time she thought about him, she felt guilty. She and Grant had brought death to his doorstep, and while he probably deserved it from everything that he did in Hydra - to Grant, The Winter Soldier, and every other project that he had ever worked on - she couldn't get that remorseful face out of her mind.

It reminded her too much of Grant. That was why she covered his dead body with a blanket, allowing small dignity in death.

While Grant, understandably, condemned Dr. Zenfield, not batting an eye at his murder, Skye could only see the similarities between them. Then there was the fact that the huge mansion she was inside was absolutely silent; the Doctor had lived alone for a long time, no human contact, no family or relationships to keep him company.

It felt similar to how she had been when living in her van.

If Skye hadn't tried to understand Grant, had instead written him off as a monster, would Dr. Zenfield's fate have eventually become Grant's? While Grant would have still escaped the transfer to the Senator, he would have been alone, hunted and then killed - with only the ghost of Garrett for company.

She closed her eyes, controlling her emotions. Dr. Zenfield's fate wasn't going to be Grant's; she was going to stay by his side. While all the things that the Doctor had revealed were terrible, horrifying, the fact that Grant had never been free in his life was never more apparent. While she knew about Garrett, she had never imagined Grant's childhood as so controlling. With everything Dr. Zenfield revealed, how would Grant handle it? That he was the son of The Winter Soldier - _The Winter Soldier!_ \- and the cause of Thomas' frailty?

Skye shook herself and looked back at the screen, at the still frozen image of Fake May. "Who are you?" she murmured.

"Doesn't matter."

Grant's sudden voice caused her to yelp, springing to her feet as she spun around, heart racing as she stared at him, but immediately felt her annoyance disappear at the sheer exhaustion carved into his sunken-looking, pale features. His hair was a mess, looking like fingers had been tugging at the strands of his thick locks. The stubble on his jaw and cheeks seemed darker, more pronounced, but that might be because he looked so gaunt. And were those tear tracks she saw? His lips were in a tight, unbending line, and she suddenly feared that she would never see him smirk again. And his gorgeous eyes were hollow, piercing, and cold as steel.

He looked like a ghost.

Skye swallowed and slowly approached him, and as she got closer, the tear tracks were confirmed; her anxiety increased exponentially. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"It was…" Grant paused and she grabbed his limp hands, watching as his throat worked hard, lips tightening into an even more intense line than before.

"It was what?" she whispered, coaxing him gently.

"John," he hissed out and suddenly collapsed against the wall, hands freeing themselves from her own, flying to his face to rub deep creases under his eyes.

Skye stood, stunned; she could only imagine what Garrett had said to him after everything they had learned from Dr. Zenfield, and it left her inwardly seething.

"Don't listen to him." Knowing how deeply Grant felt about Garrett, she didn't approach him, staying where she was as they locked eyes - heated versus sharp. "Nothing is your fault, whatever he says."

"I could have saved him if I knew what I was."

Her lips parted before she shook her head. "_Don't._ Somehow, Garrett already knew what you were, remember? Why else did he give you the shots? You said that he was protecting you." The words were like acid, but she forced them out, knowing it would help him right now to hear his own prior words. "Maybe Garrett already did something, drew blood from you, to try to help himself but it didn't work."

He was quiet for several moments. "Maybe."

"Garrett's gone. I know you loved him, but if you keep listening to him, you're not gonna get anywhere."

"I've been listening to John for fifteen years. I don't know how to… do anything else."

Her eyes softened but, for some reason, it made him angry.

"Stop looking at me like I'm _weak!"_ he spat out, jaw jerking with terrible tension.

"Well, you shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that, Grant." Skye dramatically placed a hand to her heart, trying to put him at ease. "You almost gave me a heart attack. Of course I'm going to look at you strangely!" She knew she was laying it on way too thick, but she figured it was the best way to distract him right now. "I mean, you gotta make some noise or _something_."

"Force of habit," he said, voice rough and she stepped towards him, unsure of what to do.

After a moment, not wanting to keep speaking about Garrett when he was so emotionally devastated, she gestured back to the image of Fake May. "Is she…?"

Grant's eyes darted to her wounded arm, and she glimpsed the fire spark in his eyes again but it was gone when she blinked. He suddenly seemed more alert, more normal. "Dead. She attacked me, and I wasn't feeling very forgiving. Whoever she was, she'll never have to be under Whitehall's heel anymore."

Skye felt cold at hearing that name, overwhelming the brief sadness that she felt at the death of someone who was brainwashed. "Whitehall? Is that who sent her?"

"Yes." She almost clutched at him in relief when his lips smoothed out into that damnable smirk that she should hate but didn't. "I called him to bitch about it."

Her eyes widened. "_What?"_

"A ploy," he responded, aggravated, but she inherently knew she wasn't the cause of his aggravation. "I think your father is working with Whitehall."

Skye's face fell. "He's… working with that monster? Di- didn't you hear what Dr. Zenfield said about Whitehall? His experiments? Even Zola was disgusted by him!" Grant didn't say anything and she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the knowledge of her father. "Guess monsters are drawn to each other."

Grant placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, suddenly in control, eyes gentle and she basked in it. "I know how it feels to have a monster for a parent, but if I've learned anything, our parents don't… they don't define us. Determine who we are. I'm not my… mother, and you're not your father."

She reached up with her hand and gripped his hand on her shoulder, finding solace in their joined hands. "What about… your father?"

"The Winter Soldier?" Grant inhaled roughly, eyes closing and then opening again rapidly. "I don't know. I only know the stories about him. He's a ghost. You heard Zenfield; apparently, he's slaughtering Hydra down by the thousands. Everyone fears him."

"But he's not a monster," she softly pointed out. "He's Captain America's best friend. He never had a choice, either. Just like you."

Grant snorted, the sound shocking her. "Like father like son, I guess."

His words gave her hope that slowly, he was understanding what Garrett did to him. "You understand? About Garrett?"

He was quiet for several tense moments before he nodded slightly. "John knew who I was, what I was, and determined that I would be his best soldier. He set everything up after I went to juvie. I see that now. He was pulling strings."

It wasn't exactly the revelation she was looking for, but Skye accepted it, knowing that it would still take time. And she would be by his side when he figured it out.

"Did you really bitch to Whitehall about Fake May?" she asked, trying to stop him from thinking about Garrett. Might as well substitute one monster for another one.

Grant's lips twitched and she let go of his hand as he backed up. "I did. Come on, I got us a Quinjet."

"_What?"_

"It's what Fake May used to get here. We have a portable plane now. No more cars. There are medical supplies inside it. I'll clean your wound and stitch it up."

Skye's eyes widened. "We can go… anywhere."

Grant paused. "I promised to help you look into your past, to find your father. I think I found him, but he's with Whitehall. With Hydra."

"I know," she whispered in dismay.

"I called Whitehall and told him to expect two people, but… no one has to show up. You don't have to do this."

She understood what he was implying but shook her head. "I- I have to learn. To understand what happened. To know who I am."

He offered his hand and she grabbed it as he led her out of the house. "I know what you mean. I'll be right beside you."

Skye's lips pulled into a small relieved smile because Grant clearly did understand. He was the only one who did. No one at S.H.I.E.L.D. would.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she stopped walking, meeting Grant's eyes when he turned to face her. "Dr. Zenfield said that he has videos of… your childhood. Of you using your… flames."

It was still a stunning revelation to know that Grant could control fire like Scorch, except, according to Dr. Zenfield, Grant could do it in ways that would blow Scorch out of the water. Probably out of the world based on how it sounded.

Grant briefly closed his eyes before opening them. "Eventually, I think that I'll remember them on my own. I… can't look at them." An echo of his inner turmoil flickered in his eyes and she squeezed his hand. "Not _now._ Not when my brain has been flooded and overwhelmed with everything Zenfield said. Knowing it's enough. I don't need to see it." His hands spasmed in her own, his eyes desperate, bleeding with raw intensity. "I _can't_."

Skye nodded, eyes soft. "I've tried to imagine what you're feeling, but… I can't. I don't know how to- to help you."

"By being you, you help me." He stared at her openly and Skye saw everything he felt towards her, the fervent emotions; they stole her breath. "You're keeping me sane. You… drown out everything."

She swallowed. "Will you… return the favor? If what I learn from my father is, I don't know how it could be anything like what we learned today, but somehow similar?"

"Always. I'll stand by you as you've stood by me."

Skye smiled and before she could second-guess herself, she darted forward and hugged Grant, burying her face in his chest. She felt him stiffen but then his arms wrapped around her and he relaxed, his head resting on her own; she felt warm and safe.

"I don't regret anything," she breathed out into his leather jacket. "Every decision I've made since… since Donnie Gill… has been the right one."

Grant's huff of laughter brushed her hair; it induced pleasure and she squeezed him tighter, relieved that everything Dr. Zenfield said wouldn't change him. "Maybe you can teach me how to make the right decision. All my life, I've been fucking up."

Knowing his experiences in his childhood and with Garrett, she briefly wondered if he had been punished for making the right decision. She tried not to think about it.

"I'll be your S.O. for that. How about it?"

"Deal. It will all come together."

Skye pulled back, gazing up at him; his eyes looked distant. "Like two puzzle pieces, right?"

He stared down at her, eyes clearing of whatever he had been thinking about. "Yes."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

**A lot happened in this chapter, so here we go:**

****Ward and Skye confront Dr. Zenfield and a lot is revealed! Grant Ward is a genetic experiment created by Hydra, fathered by The Winter Soldier and his mother was inhumane, experimenting on her own children. Look, I tried to think of something else that would work, but having The Winter Soldier as Ward's father is the only thing that worked, that made sense for what I was trying to do. It's what competently explains how Ward is a Super-Soldier and why he would have survived Hydra's genetic manipulations, the experiments to which he was subjected as a child. It's also revealed why Thomas was frail when he shouldn't have been. Ward took all the nutrients in their mother's womb, but because of Thomas' perfect genetics, he wasn't absorbed into Ward (which is an actual thing; it's called Vanishing Twin Syndrome). If you could describe Grant Ward in a single phrase, a single trait, in my opinion, that trait would be 'Survivor.' That is ingrained in his genetic code, for that's what he does. He survives and he will fight to survive more than almost anyone (another reason why I made The Winter Soldier his father, for Bucky Barnes has proven to be just as much a survivor as Grant Ward). It's tragic that his twin brother, whom he loved more than anyone, was frail and nearly deformed because of Ward's ingrained sense to survive, but it makes sense. Ward's past was already tragic, and I decided to make it even more so. Might as well make use of the trope.**

**As for why Hydra believes that The Winter Soldier is superior to Captain America, it has to do with genetics. (I'm aware that the Super-Soldier Serum used on Barnes was a different one that might have or might not have been completed, but I'm having it be that the process was completed by Zola when he was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. after Barnes' "Death," and Barnes is as much a Super-Soldier as Rogers is since it's been shown that they can do the same things.) To use a real-life example, if either prime Arnold ****Schwarzenegger**** or Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson were given the Super-Soldier Serum and then I was (I promise you, I have nowhere near the physique of those two Herculean beasts), whom would be superior thanks to the Super-Soldier Serum? It would absolutely be ****Schwarzenegger**** and "The Rock" because their base forms, their very genetics, are superior in that regard to my own. In comparison, Bucky Barnes' base form was many, many-times superior to Steve Rogers' base form, so it makes way more sense that Barnes could evolve past what Rogers did because he was already superior when given the Super-Soldier Serum. The whole Super-Soldier Serum actually taking its recipients to "the peak of human potential" is a cop-out and convoluted answer that doesn't actually make sense because there has never been an established human limit (I mean, some of the things that Black Widow and Hawkeye, two humans, do are technically impossible for humans) in the MCU. Plus, not everyone has the same genetic potential. That's the beauty of genetics. Humans aren't carbon-copies of each other. The peak of human potential is different for each human based on the genetic and psychological make-up of each individual person. Plus, there's nothing that says that peak human potential cannot be exceeded. I mean, look at Steve Rogers. He was holding a fucking helicopter in **_**Civil War,**_** which is so far beyond peak human potential. Then there's the bullshit with catching Thanos' fist in **_**Infinity War. **_**That is NOT human. (Peak human potential is what the contestants in the Summer and Winter Olympics can do.) **

**So, rationally, since he was born as a Super-Soldier, Ward would technically be stronger than Captain America and The Winter Soldier. He was monitored since birth, so 'enhancements' could always have been later added, more serums forced into his body. The fact that he can't remember leaves a lot in the air. After all, anything could have happened. **

**Honestly, the failure to replicate the Super-Soldier Serum doesn't make sense. I mean, billions of dollars were undoubtedly spent trying to replicate it, but for whatever magical reason (plot), they couldn't do it. Sure, Banner was trying to do it, but instead, he turned himself into The Hulk. Blonsky got a knock-off version, and Project Centipede was another knock-off. The most intelligent minds in the world for decades worked on the Super-Soldier Serum, trying to replicate it, so why couldn't they? Banner is more intelligent than Erskine. So why? It must be because they're missing a certain, absolutely necessary ingredient that they could never get their hands on. So that's why I wrote the bit about the Super-Soldier Serum containing "several non-human, unidentifiable markers." That's the only thing, to me, that makes sense. ****I'm not going to count Howard Stark's "perfected" serum in **_**Civil War**_** because that was a MacGuffin and had NO payoff since the other Winter Soldiers with that "perfected" serum were immediately killed and off-screen no less - and they went insane from the supposed "perfect" serum. It was just a way to pit Steve and Tony against each other and fracture The Avengers when Thanos arrives in **_**Infinity War**_**. That entire scenario could have happened regardless even if there was no "perfected" Super-Soldier Serum - that's how irrelevant it was. Bucky could have still killed the Starks for whatever other, more viable reason. Plus, the fact that there was even a video of Bucky killing the Starks made no fucking sense either. Why would you have evidence of that murder? It was supposed to be labeled as an accident and you don't want to just magically leave around evidence of such a murder. Why wouldn't The Winter Soldier shoot out the cameras before killing them instead of killing them and then shooting out the cameras? That's irrational and a mindless killing machine would in no way act irrationally, for he's supposed to possess great logic and no emotion. (His programming wasn't glitching either because he clearly killed them without an ounce of remorse or hesitation.) Why would The Winter Soldier allow himself to be seen/picked up by the cameras? His actions don't fit at all with the ghost-like assassin he is. The whole Stark murders, the way in which they were murdered by Bucky/The Winter Soldier, created quite a few plot holes as far as I'm concerned.**

**I needed a way for Ward to still be a Super-Soldier, but even with his memories gone, he still would have noticed how strong he was in comparison to regular humans. So Hydra, specifically Ward's mother, developed shots that inhibit a Super-Soldier's enhanced physiology that somehow Garrett (it will be explained) got his hands on and had Ward start using when he was in the woods. (It will also be explained what other ways Garrett used Ward. Hint, hint: stealing his blood.) Of course, Ward never knew that's what the shots were, assuming (because of Garrett) that they were enhancements with recovery. Rationally, people in S.H.I.E.L.D. - which is a profession that demands much on the body, especially for a Specialist - would be using enhancements such as steroids and P.E.D.s to get a leg up on the competition. Hope that makes sense. **

****Ward kills Agent 33 after she kills Dr. Zenfield and shoots Skye. I thought it was clear in Canon that the only reason why Ward got close with Agent 33 was that 1) he needed help after Skye shot him and 2) he was alone and Skye had proven that she didn't trust him; he wanted to feel needed and by helping Agent 33, that provided the sense of need. (The whole falling in love thing that seemed to happen was asinine.) Ward wasn't helping Agent 33 out of the goodness of his heart; it was a selfish motive. By helping Agent 33, he was helping himself get rid of the past demons, of whatever brainwashing he thought he suffered under Garrett. It was a way for him to gain "closure." In this, it makes no sense for Ward to keep Agent 33 alive. He's not aware enough to recognize that he was methodically brainwashed by Garrett, so he wouldn't show sympathy for her. More likely, he'd think she's weak because she got captured by Whitehall and succumbed to the brainwashing. And even more importantly, Skye is with him. He's not in need of a companion because he has Skye - and if you want, he has Garrett's ghost, too. He already feels needed because Skye needs his help with her father. Ward was never going to show Agent 33 mercy; she was his enemy. Especially after all the truths revealed by Dr. Zenfield and the fact that Skye was shot by Agent 33. Ward is vengeful, and with the fact that he was emotionally devastated by the revelations and with Garrett's ghost pestering him to kill her, Agent 33 would never escape with her life. **

**Ward and Garrett's ghost go at it! This is the first time where Ward really confronts Garrett and things get pretty ugly. Now, because of everything that happened with Zenfield's truths, Ward is emotionally vulnerable - perhaps more than he's ever been. All the terrible information, things that will affect him for the rest of his life, were thrown at him, at his own behest of course, like machine-gun fire. He hasn't had time to truly digest it all and compartmentalize the information like he was taught. When Garrett's ghost, who could be considered a manifestation of Ward's own guilt, which Ward does acknowledge in the chapter, verbally attacks him, verbally abuses him for failing to save him when clearly, Ward had the means (the blood) necessary to do so although he never knew it, it leads to Ward contemplating suicide. Of course, the thought of Skye makes him realize that he's a survivor and he's not going to kill himself. He also begins to realize, probably for the first time, that Garrett's ghost isn't actually truly Garrett. He's said in the past that Garrett's ghost is a figment of his imagination, but he's never cared. Now, he's starting to realize that Garrett's ghost is his own manifested emotions about his memory of Garrett. Garrett's ghost is an unreliable narrator, for the ghost is actually Ward's thoughts and emotions and memories about situations, not Garrett's. He may be imagining what Garrett would say at certain points, but that's it. That's an important thing for Ward to realize and begin to care about, but as shown later in his response to Skye, he's not ready to verbally acknowledge it; he still has more self-discovery to complete.**

**Ward talks to Whitehall and agrees to meet him, preparing to play him, so that Skye can get close to her father, whom he believes is working with Whitehall. **

****Skye decides to go with Ward to Whitehall because she needs to understand where she comes from. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	7. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein the **_**Marvel Cinematic Universe**_**.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

Wanda peered out of her cell, the electric energy barrier prohibiting her from what she wanted to see. If she got too close, it would knock her unconscious; she would know, for it had happened quite a few times. No matter what she did, she was powerless. Her powers, the powers that Hydra had given her, were nullified in the cell. She was taken out of the cell once a day and given time to practice, but she never tried to escape even though she wanted to.

Hydra was smart - dastardly so. She and Pietro were never released at the same time. While one trained, the other was held hostage, a bomb rigged inside their cage that should a sign of disobedience or rebellion become apparent, would go off at one of the Doctor's commands. While she and Pietro possessed power, they were powerless at the same time. Because she hardly ever got to train, she was unable to hone her powers; she was still, to her shame, like a clumsy child.

Now, as she strained her neck while also holding back so she wouldn't receive an electric shock, Wanda huffed in annoyance.

An explosion had rocked part of the base, causing all the guards watching them in their cells to abandon their post to see what was going on, and her first thought had been of The Avengers. Her parents' murderer - _Tony Stark!_ \- was here and if Hydra would let her out, she and Pietro would have their chance to avenge them. But as time passed, no one came to release them so they could achieve what they had pledged their lives to. The thought of Stark and The Avengers almost caused her to forget the horrors that she and Pietro had suffered at the hands of Von Strucker, List, and other Hydra Doctors.

Almost.

While she hated Stark and, by extension, The Avengers more, Von Strucker and List and Hydra were narrowing the gap very quickly.

"It's not _him,_" Pietro's voice drifted into her ears from the other cell. She couldn't see him, but she could picture his face, how it was contorted in irritation, arms crossed over his chest. "They know how we'd tear him to pieces if it were. They wouldn't take that from us."

"Wouldn't they?" she whispered, hands rubbing her arms. "They've taken almost everything else. The only thing they haven't taken from me is you."

Pietro's sigh was audible. "Isn't it worth it to get revenge on _him?"_

"I don't know anymore. I feel more like getting revenge on everyone. Not just Stark."

Her brother's aggravation was tangible, and she felt more relief at the familiarity of his anger than she cared to admit. "We're gonna avenge Mom and Dad. Isn't that all that matters?"

"But at what price?"

Pietro didn't say anything, and she nodded, looking at her hands; she could almost imagine the red energy floating at her fingertips but the hollowness in her mind reminded her that she was powerless.

She swallowed. "I can't remember their voices, Pietro. Their faces get blurrier with each passing day. Everything that they're doing to us is making me forget faster. I don't want to lose those memories."

"You won't!" Pietro cried out and she wavered, wishing to reach out and touch him, but was unable to because of the barrier. "We can escape. I'll get us out of here, okay? Then we can- "

"How? We can't do _anything._ We don't have our powers in these cells."

Pietro didn't answer again, and Wanda closed her eyes and controlled her chaotic emotions, how they threatened to brim over and inspire her to weep. After several moments, she reopened her lids but immediately stiffened, for the shadows outside of her cell moved. Prepared for one of the Hydra Doctors, she was flabbergasted when, for the first time in her life, she set eyes upon The Winter Soldier.

She had heard of him, heard Von Strucker and List frequently discuss a metal-armed asset that had gone rogue, attacking other bases, decimating them, and killing as many of Hydra's Agents as possible. From what she had heard, she didn't think it possible that a single man could accomplish everything that Von Strucker and List had implied, but now she believed it.

The figure outside of her cell was remarkable, a mountain of a man, and clad in blood-stained black armor, the powerful-looking weapons adorned him like a second pair of armor, causing her eyes to widen; he was a literal, walking one-man army. Was that an R.P.G. and then a rocket launcher strapped across his back, side-by-side? The mane of dark locks tumbled to his shoulders and the thick facial hair effectively concealed his face. Still, the exposed, gleaming bionic arm with the red star of the communist Soviet Union notified her more than any introduction could as to the identity of the man who had somehow impossibly snuck into Sokovia's Hydra base. In his other hand, the flesh hand, a huge automatic weapon was held with an absolute ease - _like it weighed nothing!_ \- that stole her breath.

How had he gotten inside? What about the force field surrounding the base? What about the proton hover tanks and armored trucks? Had he escaped those? What about the turrets and missiles? What about all the Agents?

Pietro gasped, apparently seeing The Winter Soldier. "Yo- you're _him._"

The Winter Soldier didn't respond, merely staring at Wanda, and she was incapable of looking away. Then, he suddenly stalked forward, not making a single sound - _how was that possible with all of that gear and weapons?_ \- and stood directly in front of her cell.

The Winter Soldier's bionic limb suddenly plowed forward and ripped through the energy barrier; she stared, fascinated, as the electric surges of the energy barrier rushed into The Winter Soldier through the conductive metal, but it had no effect, for he didn't seem to feel it. The bionic fingers curled into a menacing fist with a _whirring_ noise and then The Winter Soldier yanked back; the barrier was decimated, parts flung out of the wall.

Immediately, Wanda's powers returned, and she breathed easier. Strangely enough, The Winter Soldier's mind wasn't immediately open to her; to read it, she would have to force her way inside, but before she got the chance, The Winter Soldier did the same thing to Pietro's cell.

Pietro appeared at Wanda's side in a blurred motion, staring at The Winter Soldier with disbelieving eyes.

"You are free now," The Winter Soldier intoned softly before turning around.

"_Wait!"_ she hissed out, reaching forward. "You're just going to leave us?"

The Winter Soldier paused, and then returned to face them, face devoid of emotion. "I have additional objectives."

Pietro's fists clenched at his sides, blurring chaotically, a glimpse of inner turmoil mixed with raw power. "What does that mean?"

He stared at them, seemingly unimpressed, impervious to any potential harm that could befall him at their hands. Feeling angered and even insulted by his lack of reaction, Wanda focused her power and knew her eyes took on that of a red mist. Then, for an instant, she reached out to his mind, digging inside.

She cried out in anguish as The Winter Soldier's mind brushed against her own; she choked on her own spit as she collapsed to the floor, shaking like a child, tears spilling down her cheeks. The touch had lasted less than a second, but in that brief moment, she had witnessed indescribable horrors and agony that dwarfed anything that she could conjure in her worst nightmares.

Wanda had seen into the minds of Von Strucker and List and the other Hydra Doctors and Agents, but what she had glimpsed in The Winter Soldier's mind surpassed anything they could contemplate or endure. She had mistakenly, arrogantly believed that she had seen the evilest, most horrible events and thoughts that could ever exist in the human psyche, but she had been terribly wrong. The Winter Soldier's memories, everything she had glimpsed, had been utterly unbearable - and she inherently knew that they always would be.

How did a single man, no matter how extraordinary, live with and endure such pain?

Pietro had pulled her into his arms, eyes bulging, fear plaguing them. Then he glared up at The Winter Soldier and dashed forward before she could stop him, eyes still blurry because of her tears. A choking sound echoed, and she staggered to her feet, vision clearing, and she gasped.

Her twin brother was effortlessly held by the throat - _did the Winter Soldier catch him?_ \- in The Winter Soldier's bionic hand, dangling in the air like a string, the punches he heaved at The Winter Soldier pointless. The automatic weapon was pointed directly at her, causing her to freeze.

"_Stop!"_ she screamed but didn't dare enter The Winter Soldier's mind again; she wasn't sure if she could ever sleep again as it was after seeing but a glimpse of the nightmarish landscape that was his consciousness.

The Winter Soldier stared at her, eyes indecipherable, and that was when she noticed that the bionic hand was relaxed, merely holding Pietro captive instead of choking him.

"I'm- I'm _sorry_," she rushed out genuinely. "Pl- please let my brother go."

The metal fingers opened with impossible smooth movement and Pietro was released and he fell to his knees. Wanda ran to her brother, falling to her knees beside him, and gripped his hands.

"Do not touch my mind again," The Winter Soldier growled out, and she looked up at him, swallowing at the glow in his stormy eyes, the promise of his wrath, the promise of her fate to suffer more terribly than she could imagine if she ignored his command. She understood why he was feared by Von Strucker and List, how he had been able to unleash all of the destruction and death that they had implied. "My mind is _mine._ It is not yours to tamper with. Touch it again, I will tamper with _you._"

Wanda believed him.

She shivered and slowly stood to her feet with Pietro, her pale face locked onto The Winter Soldier. "I'm- I'm so _sorry._ You po- poor man. So much _pain _and de- _death._"

The Winter Soldier stared down at her and Pietro. "Where is the Scepter?"

Her eyes widened. "The _Scepter?_ Why?"

"Such a weapon will not stay in Hydra's hands. There will be no more _experiments._" The Winter Soldier's fists, both flesh and metal, slowly, ominously clenched into fists. It was terrifying. "I will make it so."

"So you know what they did to us?" Pietro demanded, apparently recovered from the fact that The Winter Soldier could have snapped his neck like a twig with a twitch of those terrifying fingers. "Von Strucker and List?"

"You are like me." Wanda saw The Winter Soldier scan them and she stiffened, trying to prepare for anything. "But you are not like me."

"That's a contradiction," she pointed out, trying to regain control of the situation. As she looked at The Winter Soldier, she pressed on, trying to forget the horrors she had glimpsed in his mind. She refused to be cowed. "_You_ are a contradiction. I saw the violence, how it exists inside you, more potent than anything I've ever seen. Yet, there's a- a mindfulness that must be _painful,_ but you don't give in to the rage your memories and thoughts and pain provoke."

The Winter Soldier's eyes darkened. "You are provoking it now."

Wanda's resolve withered, and her voice became meek. "Why did you free us?"

"You will not be what they made you. I will not allow it." The Winter Soldier stood taller, his presence suffocating. "Where is the Scepter?"

Pietro gripped her hand. "We'll take you to it. We want revenge, too. We can help you. We have powers."

"You are children."

"Hydra took that away from us," Wanda said, staring into his stormy eyes. She decided to be honest. "We… volunteered to be experimented on because we wanted revenge for our parents' deaths, but- "

"I do not align with _fools_," The Winter Soldier's voice lowered, a tightness entering his massive frame. "You are _children,_ incapable of reason or control."

Wanda squeezed Pietro's hand tightly when she felt him stiffen, heard the outrage brimming in his mind - even though she admitted that the words were true. "Then _teach _us. We don't know what we're doing. We are children, but you can teach us to be… adults."

"I do not have the years necessary - nor the willingness to teach you. There are more competent instructors to teach you to be adults."

"Not for what we want to do." Wanda let go of Pietro's hand and stepped forward. "I've heard the stories about you. Hydra's _terrified_ of you. Von Strucker is a Hydra _Head_ and even he's terrified."

"All the Hydra Heads fear me," The Winter Soldier intoned.

"They _should._ We- we want that." Wanda swallowed, averting her eyes for several moments. "Because we wanted to avenge our parents' deaths, Hydra manipulated us, took advantage of us because we're children. We don't want to be used again."

Pietro stepped to her side, eyes locked onto The Winter Soldier. "We never want to be put in cages again. Don't you understand? We want _revenge_ for what they did to us. Just like you."

"What Hydra did to you is what you _wanted._" Wanda shivered at the look of disgust that flashed in The Winter Soldier's eyes. "You _volunteered_ to be used. To be taken advantage of. You have no right to be angry."

Pietro's anger flashed through their connection and Wanda tried to mentally soothe him as she took over. "It's not what we thought it would be. We thought- "

"You weren't _thinking,_" The Winter Soldier snarled, the spark of a true man beneath the frigid, violent surface appearing. Wanda was frozen, unsure which scared her more: The Winter Soldier or the man beneath The Winter Soldier. "The _arrogance._ You willingly surrendered your freedom, your rights to _Hydra._ You don't get a say in anything."

"Then let us help you!" Pietro cried out, fury carved into his face. "You can't take Hydra out by _yourself!"_

Just like that, any trace of the true man vanished, and The Winter Soldier had returned.

"I will not rest until Hydra is destroyed," The Winter Soldier intoned. Did he think he was invincible or something? Was he actually invincible? "Tell me where the Scepter and Wolfgang von Strucker are."

Wanda grasped at what she saw as her last chance, gathering her courage. "Hydra will find us. Even though you freed us, we're not like _you._" Pietro looked down and she regripped his hand, reassuring him that everything was going to work. "We can't wage war against Hydra itself. We- we can't hide from them, either. Then we'll be locked in cages again. They'll _torture _us just because they can."

The Winter Soldier didn't react, but something in his eyes flickered, giving her hope.

"We'll take you to where the Scepter is," she continued. "We'll tell you anything you want to know about Von Strucker. I've seen his _mind_. I can tell you things no one else knows about him."

"In return for… protection?" The Winter Soldier asked.

"And help." She sighed softly, truthfully. "You said it yourself. Pietro and I are children. We don't reason. Our powers are inconsistent; we don't have _control._"

The Winter Soldier turned around. "Lead me to the Scepter and Wolfgang von Strucker."

Wanda's face broke into a relieved smile. "So, you'll help us? Protect us?"

"Yes."

Pietro's eyes brightened and he blurred in front of The Winter Soldier; she followed him. "The Scepter's this way. There will be guards- "

"They will not be a threat."

"What about the other guards?" she asked, realizing how long it had been since she had seen them. "We were able to talk for quite a while."

"I killed everyone in my way to free you."

That explained a lot - like the huge automatic weapon

Wanda felt tense, remembering who had just agreed to put her and Pietro under his protection, so she brushed her fingers against the wall, the cool stone a reprieve to her heated flesh. "We'll be that Roman thing with Caesar. A… a triumphant."

"A _triumvirate,_" The Winter Soldier corrected from behind them.

She felt Pietro roll his eyes. "So… what do we call you? We're not going to call you The Winter Soldier."

"Barnes."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"As you can see, we're not the only ones after Hydra," Morse said, gesturing to the images of incredible destruction flashing across the screen. "And whoever this group is, they're ruthless."

Hunter whistled, eyes rooted on the images. "And more competent, it looks like."

Tripp almost let a smile slip at Coulson's affronted expression, but he didn't dare. Things had become even tenser since the reveal of the alien carvings. While Tripp had been relieved that there was one less secret, he wasn't sure it was worth the suspicion floating in the air. He had overheard Morse and Mack whispering about Coulson's insanity and how major of a problem it is, how it breeds anxiety and mistrust. Could people trust what he says when there's an alien language singing in his blood, controlling what he feels and thinks?

He had to admit that a lot more of Coulson's irrational decisions, how he arrived at them, made a lot more sense knowing that he was going insane.

"Is it The Avengers?" May asked. "The level of destruction, it looks like something only The Hulk or Thor could unleash. Or maybe Stark on a lucky, high-powered day."

"There's nothing to suggest that it's The Avengers," Morse responded in aggravation. "I had the same thought. In fact, it was my first, but there's no evidence. The closest Avenger that matches up with the destruction is actually Stark because of the weaponry used, but they're not _Stark's_ weapons. I checked. Plus, Stark has hardly left his tower since the Hydra reveal. It's well-documented."

Tripp couldn't blame him. Some of the released Hydra files had detailed what Hydra was planning to do to Stark and how they were going to use his assets and technology, and they made Tripp's own stomach queasy. He couldn't imagine how it made Stark feel.

"Who else is capable of such destruction?" Simmons questioned with a pensive gaze. Tripp looked at Fitz, but unsurprisingly, he looked occupied with something else; his mind was elsewhere. Mack, on Fitz's other side, had his eyebrows furrowed at Simmons' question. "If not The Avengers, who?"

"A third party, and a damned good one at that," Hunter said with a grin; he looked delighted. "Whoever they are, we should be thanking them. They're making our work a lot easier by cleaning up Hydra for us."

Morse frowned. "Whoever this group is, they're not cleaning up Hydra. They're _exterminating_ them."

"Come on, Bob. You say that like it's a bad thing."

Morse hesitated and Coulson leaned forward. "What is it, Agent Morse?"

"There is no finesse with whoever is doing this. They're blunt, brute-like. Their only thought is destruction, pure and simple. The fact is, by merely destroying Hydra, they're not concerned with the fallout. It must be a delicate dismantling. A lot of Hydra's weapons and tools are vile in Hydra's hands, but in _our_ hands, they are not."

Coulson nodded in understanding. "You wish to recover Hydra's resources for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gain."

"Actually, it makes sense," Tripp commented, meeting Morse's eyes for a brief second; she looked surprised - why, he didn't know. "Hydra's so far ahead in the game that we're barely surviving as it is. It would help us a lot if we can get their resources, even just some of it."

"And when Whitehall does whatever he's about to, what then?" May demanded, disgust flashing in her eyes. "We eliminate him and take over his projects?"

"It depends on what Whitehall's plan is," Morse said carefully, eyes darting to Coulson, but he nodded in allowance. "As you know, based on what Simmons and I discovered while undercover, he's planning _something._ What, we never found out. I think the only one who knows what the plan is, is Whitehall himself."

"Then we need to wait for the signs that it's about to start," Coulson said, words resolute. "We know it's going to happen, so we'll be prepared. Meanwhile, have any of you found evidence pertaining to Ward?"

"Sorry, sir. There's been nothing. He's vanished into the wind - and Skye with him."

Coulson sighed wearily. "Then keep looking. Ward won't be able to keep Skye silent forever. The monster can't keep up his act."

Fitz suddenly reacted. "Wa- Ward is what yo- you make him."

Tripp thought he understood, but Coulson clearly didn't, for he frowned. "What does that mean, Fitz?"

"I think I know," Hunter interrupted before Mack could, hands drumming on the table for a brief moment. "Look, the only bad blood I have with Ward is him getting the drop on Bob and me at that station. Tripp was right about him having the means to kill all of us and choosing not to. That's not a monster, sir. If you keep thinking about Ward as a monster, treating him like one, then he'll really become one. One who doesn't go out of his way to _not_ kill his enemies. I think that's what Fitz is saying."

Fitz nodded. "Tha- thank you."

Tripp noticed that Simmons wasn't looking at Fitz, eyes far away, and he worried what Fitz's beliefs about Ward would do to their mended relationship. Since Skye's absence, Fitz and Simmons had bridged the gap that had once seemed insurmountable. They were talking again and there was no awkwardness. Even with Fitz's stuttering and occasional inability to remember the word he was trying to say, Simmons seemed to have gotten past whatever she was dealing with. Based on what he knew, Tripp reckoned that because of Skye's seeming 'betrayal,' at least in Simmons' mind, she had latched onto her most familiar companion to fill the void.

But would Fitz's belief in Ward undermine all of their progress?

Coulson looked displeased. "Regardless, we need to find him and get Skye away from him. We need to find _her._"

Tripp scratched at his cheek, finding the words that had been loitering in his mind for weeks. "What if she doesn't want to be found, sir?"

Coulson didn't react but his eyes flickered. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Agent Triplett."

Morse's lips pursed and she spoke before Tripp could. "You're pretending a lot, sir."

His eyes weren't the only ones that widened in shock. May glared at Morse, and interestingly, Mack hadn't reacted; he remained quiet. Jemma's jaw dropped and Fitz only blinked. Hunter, however, sat straighter, eyes wide with alarm.

"What I think Bob means, sir, is that- "

"Agent Morse can speak for herself, Agent Hunter." Coulson crossed his arms across his chest, and Tripp was reminded that Coulson is the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., the most powerful man in the room. "I advise that she does."

Tripp watched as Morse inhaled slowly and intentionally schooled her features. "Sir, you're refusing to look at the facts."

"And what facts are those?"

"The fact that Skye may be lost to us forever, but you're pretending that she's not." The temperature dropped in the room and Tripp inhaled sharply, amazed at Morse's bluntness, but she kept going. "The fact that you are _severely _compromised. Both by the alien language in your head or wherever it is, and by Ward. Fitz is correct. If you attribute monstrous qualities to Ward, then he will always be one. The fact is, he'd be a hell of an asset for us against Hydra if we bring him in and offer him a deal. It would ensure Skye's safe return."

Simmons' jaw dropped. "_What?"_

Coulson's face pinched, brief disdain rippling across his features. "The only deal I'll give Ward is a first-class ticket to Hell free of charge."

Morse didn't even blink. "As I said, sir, you're compromised_._"

"Remember who you're addressing, Morse," May snapped, eyes furious. "Ward killed those guards in the transfer- "

"To make a working timeline, you must observe _everything _and know the context surrounding events," Morse's voice was flat. "Ward was being sent to his brother, the same brother who, according to all accounts, abused- "

"All lies fed by Ward," Coulson cut in. "I spoke to Senator Ward, Agent Morse."

Morse tensed and Tripp wondered if she was going to go for it. After several moments, she exhaled roughly. "Sir, you are compromised by Ward. Is it possible that when you spoke to Senator Ward that- "

Coulson leaned forward, eyes heated. "I don't like what you're insinuating, Agent Morse."

"Ward killed the guards on the transfer, yes, because for whatever reason, he despises his brother." Tripp nodded in agreement, knowing how much the brothers despised each other. The Senator had sent an assassin after Ward, a fact that he still hadn't reported. Then he would have to admit that he had let Ward escape with Skye, something he was sure that Coulson would somehow banish him for if he found out. "_That_ is a fact. Whether it's because he was abused or other reasons, it doesn't matter. Ward despises his brother, a fact known to everyone in this room, but the transfer still occurred. His reaction, psychologically, is understandable. Yet, when we went to the train station, he didn't kill any one of us."

"He's not consistent," May muttered.

"What's your theory, Bobbi?" Mack asked for the first time. Tripp had almost forgotten that he was in the room.

"I think, deep down, Ward is wanting redemption," she declared, and Tripp saw Simmons' eyes bulge from their sockets in horror.

"_What?"_ she demanded. "How can you say that? Ward's a psychopath!"

Morse stared at Simmons. "That's a _flagrant_ misdiagnosis, Simmons. Ward is not a psychopath. Deep down, you know that."

"But he's still a _monster._" Tripp almost groaned when he saw Coulson and May both nod at Simmons' description. "How can you say that Ward wants _redemption_?"

"Because of his actions. We're all alive, and we are the most important members of S.H.I.E.L.D., whereas the Agents on the transfer were not. They were, at the risk of sounding callous, insignificant and replaceable. Ward intentionally spared some of the highest-ranking members of S.H.I.E.L.D., both at the station and during the Hydra reveal."

"And Victoria Hand?" Coulson's voice possessed none of its usual patience. "Ward murdered her."

"He did. But if Agent Hand had somehow survived, would you trust her, sir? Would she be in such a high position?"

"I don't know. She and I never saw eye-to-eye, a path you're beginning to follow."

Morse nodded, easily digesting the veiled threat. "Regardless, why else would Ward intentionally spare everyone but Agent Hand if he didn't want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. again? We can bring him back in. Ward is an incredible Specialist, and we need all the help we can get to take down Hydra. Whoever that third group is, they won't be able to keep it up. Hydra will catch on; they always do. Ward will be a good way to help begin evening the lopsided playing field."

Simmons' face went red. "You weren't _there!_ Not when Ward- "

"Which makes me objective instead of _emotional_ about the situation," Morse interrupted coolly, voice smooth. "I know the facts that you have told me and based on our run-in with Ward at the station, he's not a monster. Otherwise, as we've already discussed, every person in this room except Mack would be dead. A man of Ward's caliber, a _Specialist_ of his caliber, would never commit such egregious errors in the process of terminating his enemies. The description of Ward that I received from you, and the facts presented of the situation are different; they don't correlate."

Silence.

Tripp nodded in agreement. "I told you. None of it makes sense. I mean, I didn't know Garrett nearly as much as Ward did, but I absolutely know that the bastard didn't accept failure - and Ward was _never_ one to fail, especially in front of or for Garrett. I heard about it all the time," he said bitterly before clearing away the memories of always coming in second place to the golden Grant Ward in Garrett's eyes. "If Ward's mission was to find out about the GH-325, then he succeeded. Once Hydra came out, if that mission evolved into the elimination of everyone, then he _failed._ On all accounts."

"He almost killed Fitz and me!" Simmons cried out in outrage, gripping Fitz's hand. "He dropped us out of the Bus!"

"I know." He held her gaze, putting his hands up. "I'm not saying that he didn't do those things, or that he didn't kill Hand and Koenig, but he didn't kill _us._ We're all still alive. All I'm saying is that if this were an actual S.H.I.E.L.D.-ordained mission, and Hydra never happened or anything and Fury was still in charge, Ward would be demoted for such total failure. If it was his goal to kill everyone, then it was actually a failure on all levels. Ward is calm, cerebral, calculating - and overall, highly intelligent - but he displayed none of those traits when Hydra came out."

May stared at him and he refused to back down at the frigid ice in her eyes. "Ward's not as good or smart as you think he is."

"And now _you_ refuse to look at the facts," Morse commented dryly, unphased by May's heated glare. "I've read all the assessments, and more importantly, seen Ward firsthand at the station. I saw what he did to Tripp - and Tripp's a great Specialist."

Tripp raised his eyebrows, still feeling the phantom pain of the butt of that gun cracking against his skull and his broken ribs, surprised by that praise; he wasn't confident in its authenticity. Was Morse trying to butter him up for something?

"Then killing all of us wasn't part of Ward's mission for Garrett," May said stiffly, slowly, tensely; her fists were clenched.

"But that's how you're _treating_ it," Tripp cut in and saw Hunter's lips quirk in agreement. "You're acting like that's what happened. I don't like Ward, either. In fact, he's an asshole, and _that's_ a fact, but the other facts don't paint the picture of a monster."

He risked a glance at Coulson, but the Director was quiet, pensive, face blank; he dimly wondered if perhaps he was getting through to him. Simmons, on the other hand, looked so enraged that she was deprived of the ability to talk.

May's eyes ignited. "It was either him or _me_ during our fi- "

Tripp interrupted, "I get that, but there were so many other chances or ways for Ward to kill you. But he chose the hardest route. That's not the Specialist way. Specialist is a fancy term for _assassin._ We're supposed to use the cleanest, most efficient route to eliminate someone. _You_ know that. What Ward did was neither clean nor efficient."

"Ward didn't want to be a coward," May declared. "He wanted to face me in combat."

Hunter threw his arms up in the air in a wild motion. "For shit's sake, you can't have your cake and eat it, too!"

May slowly turned to face Hunter, face steely. "_What?"_

Tripp inwardly winced as Hunter blatantly rolled his eyes, arms coming back down. "You just said that Ward didn't want to be a coward, but I could be loaded with cash by now based on how many times I've heard you say that Ward is a coward by doing what he did. By following the Garrett fellow and betraying S.H.I.E.L.D. the way he did. You're contradicting yourself!"

"That's enough," Coulson interrupted, voice frustrated, and Tripp reckoned that it was a timely interruption, for May looked furious enough - and cold enough, too - to tear Hunter apart. "Agent Morse, it takes more than an outsider's perspective to understand the situation. The fact is, you weren't with us when Ward revealed his true nature. These theories, I'd be willing to listen to them about anyone us, but Ward is _different._ He would be an asset, but he could never be trusted." Tripp met Coulson's stare as the Director turned to face him. "Agent Triplett, I'm disappointed. You know Ward and you knew Garrett; they're the _same._ Ward is our enemy and he will stay that way."

Tripp didn't react and he noticed that Morse didn't look happy, but she nodded. "Then I advise you to just be prepared, sir. When we find Skye, she might not be the same Skye you remember."

Coulson frowned and Tripp leaned back in his chair, having a feeling what Morse meant. "What are you saying, Agent Morse?"

She sighed. "If Skye was already in love with Ward enough to be talking to him in secret, to keep the knowledge of her actions so she could go on the transfer with him, then how much has her love for him grown since then? It's been _weeks._ They've been alone, and you said it yourself, sir: Ward might be a better manipulator than Romanoff. I believe it likely that Skye might be so in love with Ward that she'd renounce S.H.I.E.L.D. and do whatever she could to help him."

Tripp noticed that Simmons looked down at Morse's words and he realized that she had come to the same realization.

May, however, looked angry, eyes heated. "You don't know Skye, Morse."

Morse turned to glare right back at May. "In this case, I'd say that's a good thing. My emotions aren't clouding my judgment."

Tripp subtly shifted in his seat, noticing Hunter do the same, as he prepared to get in between the two women, but Coulson beat them to it.

"_Enough!"_ he snapped. "Agent Morse, dismissed."

Morse seemed to inwardly scoff before she departed the room. Hunter immediately ran after her, and Tripp saw May watching them with narrowed eyes.

"I don't trust her, Phil," she said, apparently uncaring that there were other ears in the room.

Tripp's eyebrows rose in interest as Coulson nodded. "I don't either, but she's as dedicated to S.H.I.E.L.D. as we are. That much is clear. She… has a different perspective. We'll need to work on that."

Fitz tentatively raised his hand. "And if- if we agree with her persp- perspective on… Ward?"

Simmons sprang from her chair as if burned and all but ran out of the room, Fitz's wounded eyes doing their best not to follow her abrupt departure.

Coulson stared at Fitz for several moments. "Do you agree with Agent Morse's perspective on Ward because of what she said, or because you miss him?"

"B- both."

"A delusional combination, Fitz," May commented tonelessly. "Ward is a monster, and if he has the chance to kill you, he will."

Fitz's eyes seemed to gain heat and Tripp was impressed as he fearlessly stared back at May. "Then wh- why didn't he?"

"Because he's not as good as everyone thinks he is."

"Bu- but that's- "

"Enough, Fitz," Coulson cut in and Tripp wasn't imagining the weariness etched into his features. "The only reason we should be talking about Ward is in regard to finding Skye. She's who matters. _Not_ Ward."

"Ward is- "

"Dismissed, Agent Fitz," Coulson said, the patience vanishing.

Fitz sullenly left the room, and after Mack followed him out, Tripp stared at Coulson. "Wasn't that a little harsh, sir? Fitz means well."

"Because of Ward, Fitz can't differentiate yearning and foolishness anymore," May responded, arms crossed. "Your words about Ward haven't helped either, Tripp."

"I'm stating facts- "

Coulson slammed his hand on the table, the sound cutting him off. "That is_ enough, _Agent Triplett. I want Ward dead," the words were quiet, but the effect was that of an icy, bitter wind. "Not only did he kill loyal men and women of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he also betrayed all of us, nearly murdered FitzSimmons, and he _kidnapped_ Skye. Ward reeks; he _is_ a monster. While Hydra is still our focus, Ward's reckoning will come. We _will_ find him - and kill him."

Tripp didn't say anything.

"I'm beginning to think, Agent Triplett, that you don't want to find Ward."

Although that's kind of how he felt, he was never going to say it aloud. "No. I just think that we're going about it all wrong, sir."

"How so?"

He met the Director's stare. "You won't find, Ward. He'll find us. He promised Skye to help her look for her father. Whatever Hydra's planning, it has something to do with whatever her father's involved with. You get to Hydra, you get to Ward - and then Skye. So right now, stop looking for Ward on the backburner; stop looking altogether because it wastes resources that we could be using for Hydra. Focus solely on Hydra. To be blunt, do nothing in regard to Ward. That's my solution."

"Do _nothing?"_ Coulson demanded, angry. "Have you lost your senses?"

His fists clenched underneath the table. "Did you lose yours when you put Ward on the transfer to his brother?"

May inhaled sharply, but Coulson's eyes burned as he leaned forward. "I'm not Director Fury, so I'll allow you to keep your position despite that gross accusation, but I won't tolerate insubordination, Agent Triplett."

Tripp kept his eyes on Coulson, wondering when a stranger had taken the place of a man he had once admired.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye refrained from scratching at her stitches on her arm from the bullet wound that Fake May had given her. The urge had awakened her from her nap, and her bleary eyes rested on Grant as he piloted the Quinjet to wherever he knew Whitehall would be.

He had been silent since they had taken off hours ago after cleaning and stitching up her wound, and her worry was beginning to gnaw at her heart.

She licked her lips, voice rough from disuse. "Are you okay?"

Grant glanced at her briefly, gorgeous eyes dark and stormy, on the verge of miserable. "No. But I will be. I'll get over it. I always do."

Skye stiffened in her seat and rubbed her neck, trying to ease the stiffness she felt. "What do you mean by getting over it? Like, stuffing it down? Ignoring it?"

A harsh bark of a laugh escaped him. "When you learn that you're responsible for your twin brother's frailty - hell, his deformities - it's impossible to ignore." Abruptly, his hand not holding the Yoke curled into a fist so tight that she was unsure if blood would ever return to the area. "It's my fault that Tommy- "

"Grant, you were just a ki- a _fetus._ How could you have known?"

He flicked on the autopilot function after rapidly inputting the coordinates to wherever they were going. He turned to her, features shockingly raw; she glimpsed the inner turmoil, the terrible agony. "But it was my _instinct_ to deprive him of the nutrients. You heard Zenfield. I absorbed everything, leaving nothing for my own _brother._ What does that say about me? My first instinct was to starve Tommy."

Skye quickly stood up, suddenly realizing that Grant must have placed his leather jacket over her sleeping form as she noticed it fall to the floor, but she didn't pay much attention. She surged forward, wrapped her arms around Grant, and was more relieved than she could say when his head leaned forward into her chest, breathing heavily.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as she felt his arms slowly envelop her. "I can't imagine…"

"I always thought that Christian somehow did something to make him frail," he mumbled into her chest, voice muffled, but she heard him. "I thought… that I was lucky not to have ended up like Tommy. But _no._ I stole everything from him. I _condemned_ him to that life."

She curled her fingers into his short hair, drawing in a shaky breath; she refused to be emotional when, at the moment, she needed to be strong - for him. Despite that, she felt her eyes well with tears, the torment in his voice nearly overwhelming her.

"Maybe that's what happened, maybe it isn't, but you did your best to _protect_ your brother," she said fiercely, believing that fact more than any that Dr. Zenfield had shared. "You loved him. If Thomas loved you half as much as you loved him, then he wouldn't want you to blame yourself for something that you couldn't control."

Grant slowly pulled back, eyes looking up to meet hers; his pallor was prominent. "I tried so hard to… to make sure he got it better than me. Mother loved him, but that only fueled Christian's hatred for him. She wasn't around to make sure Thomas was never hurt, so it was my job to do it. When Christian would make me hurt him, I… I didn't punch or kick him as hard as I could. I… tried to do it gently, but Christian was always watching."

Skye was unable to prevent the tears from spilling down her cheeks, but she nodded, trying to smile. "I believe you, Grant."

He stared up at her, transfixed, and she was overwhelmed by the sheer awe. "Thank you."

She swallowed. "You always did your best. I see that. You never wanted to hurt your brother. Just as you never wanted to hurt me - and FitzSimmons. You did your best not to."

Grant's eyes briefly shut. "That fucking pod was supposed to float. It's how they're designed, but… Fate wanted to fuck me up the ass. By the time I faced May, I didn't care. John had already gone insane; my heart wasn't in that fight."

She nodded, not feeling that surprised by that information. "I know that you don't feel this way but thank you for not killing May. Or Fitz and Simmons and Coulson."

He pulled back from her and she felt cold without his embrace; his eyes were dark. "The only ones I feel that way about are FitzSimmons."

"I know," she murmured, wondering how she could begin to bridge the gap between Grant and Coulson and May. More pressing, she wondered if the seemingly insurmountable gap could ever be bridged. May had taken Grant's voice away for months and she felt terrible when she realized that since Grant was abused, he had probably felt just like his childhood when he couldn't speak. Coulson had, still to her horror, shipped Grant to the Senator to be executed like he was a dog - and since Coulson had been the one who killed Garrett, no matter how much it was deserved, Grant was most likely never going to play nice with him again.

Grant spoke, a change in topic. "Whitehall should be easy to deal with, so you shouldn't need to worry too much about him while you speak with your father."

"You said Whitehall probably murdered my mother," she pointed out, a flush of emotion that she couldn't describe assaulting her. "I'm going to worry."

"True, but I meant that since Simmons had gone undercover in Hydra, and Whitehall was oblivious to it, so incompetent to recognize an amateur, he'll be easy to manipulate if necessary."

Skye nodded, sitting back in her chair; she idly picked up the leather jacket and held it in her hands. "I didn't know that Simmons was in Hydra."

"You mentioned that. You said you thought that she was taking time off or something."

"I thought she went home," she said softly. "I thought it was her way of dealing with what happened to Fitz. With _everything_ that happened. It wasn't until… Donnie Gill, when I learned." She blinked back tears, the regret still a fresh bleeding wound. "All that time, I thought she was home, but… she wasn't. She went into _Hydra_ to deal with everything."

Grant's head tilted, eyes gentle, but behind it, she could still see that inner turmoil, the utter burden he felt at the truths revealed by Dr. Zenfield; she wanted it to go away, but she wasn't sure it ever would. "I'm sorry."

She sighed. "I don't blame you anymore for what happened. The blame is Garrett's - and Hydra's, too. You know, part of me absolutely wishes that Hydra never existed and that Project Insight never happened, but then there's a- a selfish part of me that wouldn't change anything."

"Why?"

Skye stared at him openly. "Because if everything didn't happen, I wouldn't know what happened to you, and I wouldn't know _you._ You would have never told me anything. Right?"

He was silent for several moments before he slowly nodded. "More than likely. John's death also played a big role in me telling you everything."

"I'm selfish," she murmured. "I mean, I know that I shouldn't feel that way at all but- "

"You're _human,_ Skye, and that's okay."

"But if I want to be a true part of… S.H.I.E.L.D., I can't have that part of me thinking that way."

Grant's gorgeous eyes considered her. "You were never an Agent. You're _Skye._ And that makes you so much _more_ than an Agent. It makes you better. Remember when I told you that S.H.I.E.L.D. will never accept you until you think the way they want?"

"Yes," she answered slowly. "It's… conformity."

"Exactly. I've never met anyone like you in my life, and I've met _a lot_ of people. Certainly more than you have."

"Don't be too sure," she quipped, a smile pulling at her lips. "I went to some crazy parties."

"You're _unique._ I've met so many S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents and they all think the same. They act the same. They _look_ the same- "

"In suits," she finished. "Yeah, I know. On the streets, we called people like them 'Suits.'"

"But you're _not_ one of them. And you never should be. Then you would no longer be Skye. You'd be someone else - and I don't want that."

Her heart began to beat faster at those words, at the undertones behind them, and she wet her lips, something in her clenching when Grant's eyes followed the movement. "You are a charmer. No wonder you're such a good Specialist."

"There's a critical difference."

"What's that?"

"I'm not playing a role or manipulating you. I'm being honest."

Skye swallowed. "Maybe we can have that drink again. Start over."

"Name the time, and I'll be there. But since we're about a day's worth away from meeting Whitehall- "

"What about _now?"_ she rushed out, words floating in the air.

His lips curled into a rare smile and the underlying inner turmoil seemed to somewhat retreat; she wanted to make it surrender.

"A motel for the night?"

"I'd like nothing more."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant stared at his reflection in the streaked mirror, eyes effortlessly adjusting to the dim light of the room. No questions had been asked when he and Skye rented the single room in the cheap motel, despite the blood on her shirt, bullet hole in her sleeve blatant. However, the manager had looked concerned, eyes lingering on Skye's wound.

"_There are Doctors who know to keep their mouths shut,"_ the manager had said. _"I can give you one's number."_

He had shaken his head. _"We'll keep that in mind. For now, we'll be fine."_

Grant wasn't worried. Skye's bullet wound wasn't severe, a mere flesh wound, but the fact that she had been shot because of his weakness to cope with the revelations shared by Zenfield pissed him off. He had expertly cleaned and stitched the wound, but in the case of a complication, there were further supplies on the Quinjet - which had been effortless to conceal on top of an abandoned building down a block from the motel.

Without Skye, he was flailing in the truths, in the memories. The regrets that withered his heart. The speculations of what could have been different if he had known sooner.

"_You're weak, son,"_ John chided in the corner of his vision, the disappointment on his face a death knell. _"Why else do you keep the girl around? You're tryin' to atone for your failures. First your baby brother and then, more importantly, me. You should've just let the bitch kill her at the Doc's mansion instead of saving her. Would've saved a lot of time. Would be a lot easier."_

He closed his eyes tightly, remembering how weak he had been at Zenfield's house. The terrible truths had affected him more than he had ever imagined they would. He had panicked; areas of his body had frozen, incapable of movement. His mind had raced faster than ever before, but in some instances, it had slowed to an infinitesimal degree until only a single thought was coherent to understand - a dreadful paradox.

"_Maybe the girl already left you. Maybe that's why she wanted this: So she could leave you in the dust. Maybe that's why she left to go to that convenience store across the street, knowing that she could make a break for it."_

His fists tightened. "Shut up."

"_Make me."_ John grinned and for the second time in his life, second to only after he spoke to John after he ordered Quinn to shoot Skye, he wanted to punch him. _"Doesn't matter. Sooner or later, she'll see you for what you are: A weak failure."_

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"_Don't I? I know you better than anyone. Certainly better than your girl, Romeo. That's why I know that whatever you think's going to happen isn't going to last. How soon 'til she realizes what you are? How soon 'til she sees how weak you are."_

Grant whirled around to face John, scowling. "Fuck you, John."

"_Fuck me?"_ John demanded, voice rising into a roar._ "Fuck me?! No! Fuck you! Is this you growing a fuckin' backbone?"_

"I don't need to," he snapped. "I'm tired of listening to your shit. It's the same thing all the time. You need some new material. You're starting to sound a little stale."

"_Finally got that spine donor, huh?" _John stomped toward him, but he stood firm, refusing to be cowed. _"Never thought I'd see the fuckin' day when you- "_

"I'm not listening to this. I'm _done._ I don't need you."

"_You've always needed me. You're nothing without me. You always have been. I made you."_

"No. Hydra and my mother did."

"_I'm tryin' to help you, son. Just as I always have."_

Grant grit his teeth. "I don't think so. You're not a guardian angel. You're my _guilt_. Nothing more."

"_Remember what I told you about Thompson on his last undercover mission? With that girl? The target's daughter?"_

"They were caught in the bathroom doing something they shouldn't have."

"_They sure were! Naked as the day they were born, fuckin' like they only had minutes to live. Thompson blew the mission and got himself killed because he was thinking with his dick - just like you are."_

Grant shook his head. "That's not the same and you know it."

"_You're the one who doesn't know it! You're so desperate for some pussy that you're not thinking straight! Is it wise to go to Whitehall, son? You've never liked him." _

"This isn't just about me, John."

"_It should be! Better yet, it should be about me, too! Show some initiative, son. I mean,_ _you already have your fuckin' answers. You know what you are. Whose son you are. You're only going to Whitehall 'cause you're compromised by your dick about this girl. Stop kowtowing like a bitch! The girl's gonna get you killed."_

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he spat out, body shaking with restraint. "What was it you said? 'It's time for your penance,' right?"

John chuckled charmingly, waving him off. _"Come on, son. I was angry. I didn't mean it. Now I'm not angry. I'm concerned."_

"Have you ever actually been concerned about me?" he hissed out. "Or were you only concerned about yourself?" Grant turned his back on John, gesture final. "Doesn't matter. You're too dead to ruin anything. I've made my decision and, this time, you're the one who's going to grow the fuck up. Accept it."

Thankfully, before John could respond, Grant heard footsteps outside of the door. He grabbed his gun, gripping it in his hand, but then he focused on his hearing and slowly recognized the breathing and heartbeat outside of the door as Skye's. The lock on the door twisted and the door slowly swung open and Skye walked in, carrying a bag.

"You won't believe the guy behind the counter," she griped, shoving the bag into his hands as she closed the door. "Had the nerve not to ask me my age. Can you _believe_ that? I mean, I don't look that old, do I?"

"_Sounds like the guy played it the right way," _John commented, a thoughtful look on his face, and he hated that he still wanted to hear what he had to say. It was only when John talked about Skye that he refused to listen, but everything else, he relied on hearing him. It was an impossible compulsion to break. _"Last time I asked a woman's age, she pulled a gun on me."_

Grant sidestepped the question, asking one of his own, "He didn't even ask for a license?"

"Nope, so I didn't have to pay extra to bribe him. He didn't even blink an eye. Just let me walk out of there."

"_Maybe your girl pulled a gun, too. Did you check her?"_

The thought that they had been made crossed his mind, but he knew that wasn't possible. Instead, he pulled the bottle of scotch out of the bag. "Good choice."

She reached across and pulled two glasses out of the bag. "For a convenience store, it was surprisingly convenient. They were stocked up with everything. Don't get me wrong, the scotch and glasses are cheap, but they look decent."

"_I can tell you something else that's cheap,"_ John hissed out, and Grant glared at him briefly before focusing back on Skye.

"Did you use the cash I gave you?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "Of course. I may be an amateur compared to you, but I did live in a van, you know? I know how to stay off the grid. Although, I mainly did it through my laptop."

He shook his head and, grabbing the bottle, twisted off the top to pour the dark liquid into his glass; he did the same for Skye. Bringing his glass to his lips, he took a drink and grimaced.

"Appearances are deceiving," he muttered, watching Skye's face twist with disgust as she swallowed her drink. "Tastes like piss. It's a good thing I'm not here for the drink."

John beamed at him. _"You're here for the pussy!"_

Grant's jaw clenched and he forced himself to take another long drink as Skye smirked at him, unaware of John's words. "Of course. A girl invites you to a seedy motel, it's pretty obvious what the result will be."

He nodded before he sat on the chair beside the bed, considering her, glass in hand. "What's the real reason?"

"_Are you really going to do this?"_ John looked so disappointed. _"Now there are two pussies in this room, and you're the one that can't seal the deal."_

She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"When I mentioned we're a day's away from meeting Whitehall - and thus, your father - you looked panicked."

"I'm worried about you. With everything that Dr. Zenfield shared. I don't want you to drown in those thoughts."

"_She thinks you're weak, son,"_ John taunted. _"That you're gonna cry on her shoulder or some shit."_

Grant ignored him. "I know you are, but I'm worried about you, too. That you're… going to do something that you'll regret because you don't want to face your father."

Skye sat her glass down, face pinched with anger. "Why do you have to do that? Analyze what we're doing. We're adults and I'm making a choice. Why can't we just- "

"Because I don't want to fuck it up," he snapped, and as the words floated in the air, Skye's expression slackening, he grit his teeth, looking away.

John met his glare with his own. _"You soft Choir boy!"_

Skye's face softened and she sat on the bed, glass of scotch forgotten. "Okay. I- I guess you're right. I'm _scared_. I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid to meet him," she whispered, hands curling into fists. "I don't _know_ him, but… he's my father. But he's killed all of those people. Good people. But I need to know the truth. I thought I was ready, but when I realized how close I was to seeing him, I freaked out."

He leaned forward in the chair, connecting their eyes. "It wasn't easy for me to face Zenfield, but I still did it. No matter how terrible the truths revealed were."

"_At least you have your answers," _John said. _"What I want to know is how I knew you were a fuckin' Super-Soldier."_

"Why?" she asked. "Because you wanted to know the truth, right?"

"Well, I was pissed off, and that played a big part- "

Skye's laughter was refreshing, louder than John's words. "You are such a guy."

His lips twitched. "But yes, you're right. I needed the truth. I needed to understand my childhood and missing memories."

"I think that what you did, how you faced Dr. Zenfield, was brave. Heroic."

John rolled his eyes. _"You hear that, son? You're her hero. Maybe you will get some pussy tonight."_

He shook his head, both at John and Skye. "It wasn't heroic. It was _robotic._ I was never not going to face him, even when I felt… nervous."

Skye nodded, crossing her arms across her stomach, a show of vulnerability. "I don't know if I can do that. Be brave, heroic, or robotic. I'm not like you."

"I don't want you to be. I already told you that you don't have to face your father if you don't want to, and I mean it. If you want to turn around, go somewhere else, anywhere in the world, that's okay. We can change our destination with no questions asked."

She remained quiet, eyes looking past him, and he patiently watched her, doing his best to ignore John; he was getting better at it.

Skye inhaled shakily. "I can't answer right now. After I sleep, I'll tell you."

"_You know what that means,"_ John groaned out. _"You ain't gettin' any, son."_

"Okay." Knowing that John was right, he stood to his feet and pulled the chair away from the bed to the wall perpendicular to the door. It was a good position from which to guard the door in case someone had found them. "I'll take the chair and you take the bed."

XxXxXxXxXxX

It was in the middle of the night, and no matter how hard he tried, Grant couldn't sleep. It wasn't the chair, for he had slept on far, far worse, but the words of Zenfield, the horrible truths that haunted him. While Skye had pointed out several things on the Quinjet, the doubts were still deafening. Then, since John continued to talk to him, he had no escape - there would be no rest for the night.

Staring up at the ceiling, head craned back, gun held in hand, automatically trained on the door, Grant drowned - in the memories and revelations. How would things be different if he hadn't stolen Thomas' nutrients in the womb? What would he find if he dug deep enough into his own psyche? Was he someone who wanted to kill his brothers? After all, he had killed Christian. Was he insane? Was that why he kept talking to John even though he wasn't real? Was he always going to be a weapon? First for Hydra and John? What about The Soldier? What about-

Suddenly hearing a rustle of the sheets on the bed, Grant glanced over, startled to see that Skye was awake; she was staring at him.

"You're wrong," she whispered.

"About what?"

"_About taking her with you!"_ John roared but he ignored him, focusing on Skye.

"Everything you're thinking," she replied.

Grant shook his head. "You don't know what I'm thinking."

"Yes, I do," her voice was soft, almost melodious, matching the glow in her hypnotic eyes; it was a balm to his inward agony. "I've seen that look in your eyes, blaming yourself, wondering who you are, how things could be different. I don't want you to torture yourself."

"_What if you had saved me as you promised?"_ John asked, voice low. _"What if you had given me your blood?"_

He sighed, forcing the words. "Have you made a decision yet?"

Skye's eyes glimmered in the sparse light offered by the moon through the curtain. "Yes, I have." She got out of the bed, slipping out of the covers, and he stared at the black bra concealing her forbidden flesh, the inviting swell of her breasts. "About two things. I'm going to face my father, but right now, I want this. I need it. We _both_ do. I don't want to keep fighting it; I'm going to let myself love you."

"_You're about to get some pussy, Romeo!"_ John hooted, grinning from ear-to-ear. _"It's 'bout time! I almost thought your girl was a nun for rea…" _

John's voice vanished as Skye approached and Grant was mesmerized, yearning pounding in his body. The tension and agony slowly faded, replaced by pure need -_ how he needed her! _She repelled his rage, the hate saturated in his heart, drowned out the agonies haunting him, and stopped the pain. She was everything he could imagine - and so much beyond that.

Skye stood before him, looking at him as she slowly took off her bra. Letting it fall to the floor, she grabbed his hand, her free, captivating breasts above him, and pulled him to his feet and to the bed - and he was powerless to resist.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Wanda remained silent beside Pietro as they watched The Winter Soldier finish the last knot on Von Strucker's bindings. She was still having trouble distinguishing between the absolute conqueror The Winter Soldier had been at Sokovia's base and how he seemed so calm right now. When they were escaping with the Scepter, he had known exactly when a guard would appear and kill them with a single shot - always a single shot, no matter how many or how far away the guards were - before any could react.

There had come a point when The Winter Soldier had demanded her and Pietro to perform, and eager to impress their liberator, had done their best to help in destroying the base - even though she inherently knew he probably didn't need their help. They had killed for him, helped him destroy everything in their path, led him to Von Strucker, and all they had received for their efforts was a quick, single nod of the head - but somehow, it had been enough.

Speaking of Von Strucker, the Hydra Head was unconscious, but Wanda picked up images of incoherent dreams, and she didn't even want to try to decipher them.

The Winter Soldier stepped back and looked at her. "Wake him."

She nodded and slowly reached out with her powers, connecting her mind to Von Strucker's, urging him to wake up. Suddenly, he awoke with a choked gasp, eyes blinking rapidly, squinting as he stared into the dark room.

When his eyes locked onto The Winter Soldier, his breath caught. "_You!_ Wha- what are you- " he cut himself off when The Winter Soldier's fists clenched.

Raw animosity radiated off of The Winter Soldier in palpable waves, his enhanced body barely capable of containing it. Wanda could feel the animal-like ferocity emanating from him, from his mind with such intensity that it seemed to produce a faint ripple in the air in the room, and she was fascinated, aware of a terrible truth. The Winter Soldier was no longer Hydra's; his power and knowledge had transformed him into their deadliest adversary.

"Do you know who I am?" The Winter Soldier asked softly, dragging a chair to sit across from their captive, the screeching of the metal grating to her ears.

Von Strucker swallowed at the sight of Wanda and Pietro, and as she anticipated, his eyes homed in on the Scepter held in Pietro's hands.

His eyes bulged as he glared at The Winter Soldier. "You _thief!_ Was that your mission? Take everything of value from me? Myself, the Scepter, my base, and my prized experi- "

"It was part of it," The Winter Soldier intoned in interruption. "Do you know who I am?"

"How could I not? You're _him._ The Soldier," Von Strucker spat out, struggling against his bonds. "A broken program unable to listen to his betters! A thief!" His eyes landed on the Scepter held in Pietro's hands. "That belongs to _me!_ So do the twins! You don't know what- "

"Neither the weapon nor the twins will be in Hydra's hands again." Wanda felt a flicker of something hover in the air from The Winter Soldier's mind, but maybe it was her own anger at Von Strucker's words. She wasn't sure. "Never again."

"You broken _toy!_ You're going to ruin everything!"

"Good."

Von Strucker sputtered, looking past The Winter Soldier to stare at her, eyes like flint. "Stop him, Wanda! Destroy his mind! All will be forgiven- "

Before Wanda could even react or blink, The Winter Soldier smacked the side of Von Strucker's face with his flesh hand, knocking the man to the floor with a heavy _thud._

"You don't _learn,_" The Winter Soldier snarled, the true man beneath the icy exterior appearing. Wanda watched with bated breath as Von Strucker was effortlessly picked up and seated once again. "You think you're powerful because you're accustomed to having all your whims treated as orders. But here, you're less than _nothing._"

The terror emanating from Von Strucker's mind prickled, and Pietro stepped forward, the Scepter held in his hand, highlighting him in a blue hue. "What will you do, Barnes?"

"We are keeping him here until the matter is settled."

"_What?"_ Pietro demanded, angry. "You know what he did to us! You said you'd help us. You killed List. Why not _him?"_

Annoyance flickered from The Winter Soldier as he finally turned around to face them; his eyes were stormy. "He has the clearance I need. He is one of the _Heads._ Only they have access to it."

"Forgive Pietro," Wanda said, speaking quickly, eyes alarmed. "He didn't mean- "

"I understand his hatred." The Winter Soldier turned back around to face Von Strucker. "I understand it more than he does. Hydra _violated_ you- "

"They _volunteered!"_ Von Strucker cried out. "They came to us!"

The Winter Soldier smacked Von Strucker again before Wanda could react, the sound exploding in the air. "A weak justification. Children do not know better, but Hydra should. You used them, manipulated their bodies, experimented in the pursuit of designed weapons. They were to be slaves to your will."

Wanda placed a hand on Pietro's arm, a desperate urging for him to remain silent. He huffed but nodded, seeming to understand that The Winter Soldier had faced much worse than they had.

"A _slave,_" The Winter Soldier hissed out. "I was kept a prisoner for over half a _century._" Wanda's jaw dropped at the information, unable to comprehend that information. The Winter Soldier looked like a man in the prime of his life, maybe not even 30-years-old, but he was at least probably 70-years-old? "You owe me at least _seventy_ years of slavery for what you did to me. You had no right- "

Von Strucker's face spasmed. "We had every right. We made you, built you into a god, for something was seen in Bucky Barnes in Austria - futures, perhaps. We created you, created a legend that strikes fear into the hearts of every man who knows your name. But yet, to create a god, you must be godlike yourself. Thus, we are gods and above you. You belong under Hydra's heel, under _my_ heel. You're my inferior."

Wanda's vision swirled as The Winter Soldier's fury increased, a terrifying inferno that threatened to consume her mind, razing it to nothingness. "_No. _I am your executioner."

"You're nothing but a defective program! You can't pretend to be human, for you aren't one. You are The _Soldier, _second to none, the incarnate champion of _winter._ The deepest recesses of the intelligence community and criminal underworld tremble at your name. Upon the sight of you, mothers butcher their children and men weep in terror."

"I am what you made me," The Winter Soldier intoned.

"What do you want? Why did you kidnap me and kill all of- "

"You will access my file."

Wanda was amazed at the gall as Von Strucker laughed. "Why would I do that?"

"For a quick death."

A flash of awareness echoed in Wanda's mind from Von Strucker's. "You don't have to kill me- "

"Bargaining for your life is futile," The Winter Soldier interrupted, voice detached, but the undertones behind it were unnerving. "You have lived your last day, Wolfgang Von Strucker."

Von Strucker snarled, pulling at his bonds, but it was useless. "You still need me. Only the Heads have access to your full file. Good luck trying to get Whitehall, Malick, or Ward - if he ever steps up - to do it. Getting at the Heads in the states is different than over here."

The Winter Soldier stared at him. "I will fix that."

"Fix that?" Von Strucker echoed. "That's not your job! Your job is to _destroy!_ You don't know how to fix anything."

"I am fixing Hydra's existence by destroying it. I will keep destroying your bases until none are left. I will continue to leave rotting corpses in my wake. I crushed your friend, List's skull. The blood you see on my armor is his." Wanda swallowed at the memory of List pleading for his life, but The Winter Soldier had been unmoved. List's skull had been crushed like a grape between those two hands, one metal and the other flesh. "Your hearts may beat blood, but none of Hydra is human. I'm exterminating."

"You should have stayed where you belong!" Von Strucker snapped, anger erupting out of him in waves. Wanda felt the pressure in her own mind, but it was insignificant when compared to The Winter Soldier's. "You're the one who's not human!"

Wanda suddenly gasped, staggering, hand flying to Pietro's shoulder to steady herself. She couldn't hear what Pietro was saying, only caught his panicked expression; she only felt the fire sizzling in her mind from The Winter Soldier's rage at Von Strucker's words. The sheer unholy rage nearly warped her very soul; she had never imagined such hatred was possible. It was so intense and overwhelming, and she accepted that Von Strucker was about to die. She wasn't sure if she could stomach watching and feeling a long, slow death.

However, when The Winter Soldier spoke again, it was not a promise of slaughter.

"_Human?"_ The Winter Soldier leaned forward, eyes blazing, the true man revealing himself once again; it was more than a mere glimpse. It felt like a temporary switch. "I'm more human than you. Even when locked away, forced into that icy tomb, I remembered the feeling of sunlight on my skin. The color… of my love's eyes."

Wanda registered a flash of mesmerizing green eyes echoing in her mind, a brilliant color that stemmed from the true man's memories. She saw flaming red hair and heard a peal of throaty, melodious laughter while a gentle whispering voice said _'James.'_ It brought tears to Wanda's eyes, seeing those flashes of brief memories of the true man's love, and realized that despite him experiencing horrors that she couldn't imagine, there had been some light and goodness in his life. Love.

She looked at Pietro, wondering if he had glimpsed the same things from their link, but her twin brother looked transfixed by the conversation between Von Strucker and The Winter Soldier.

"The _warmth_ for her that existed in my heart couldn't ever be iced over," the true man continued. "It was always there - however faintly. They could never fully take her from me. Otherwise, she would be dead instead of alive." An echo of bullets and blood had Wanda wincing, the images besmirched in pain. "Just as you're about to be."

"Go to Hell!"

"Taste. Touch. Emotion. I didn't feel any of those things until her. She brought me salvation; she was my peace, my freedom. But then you took her from me."

"The _Widow?"_ Von Strucker demanded incredulously. "I know the stories."

Wanda gasped, stunned, as she heard Von Strucker's thoughts, the knowledge of the identity of the true man's love: Black Widow of The Avengers.

"Then you know how serious I am."

"If you want peace so much, go find your Widow! It should be easy; she's the one who dumped the entire database, all of Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files on the internet!"

"You misunderstand. I don't want peace. I want _vengeance._"

Von Strucker stiffened, and Wanda felt the fear emanating from his mind as he desperately pulled at his bonds once again. "You don't have to kill me. I'll pull your file. Tell you anything you want to know."

"You _really _misunderstand," the true man hissed out, both of his fists clenching; it was terrifying, especially as the bionic arm _whirred_ with deadly promises. "To have those pleasures again, to keep feeling them as I reclaim all that is mine would be worth… _anything._"

Wanda watched as Von Strucker clenched his jaw. "You're insane."

"No. Life always teaches lessons, and I've listened to them. Even if I forgot them due to The Chair, I relearned them. I had to. When you live as long as I have, seeing what I've seen, you recognize patterns. You see the roots. The world's a complex place. It's both a paradise and nightmare. I've known the transcendence of joy and love but also the pits of agony and torture. I've seen it all. I've been everywhere. But yet nothing's different. The world's changed, but the people haven't." Images flashed in Wanda's mind, but they were flashing so rapidly that she couldn't distinguish them. "While they talk differently, they act the same. It's the same as my childhood. The same tricks, fights, pettiness, and _arrogance_. Through Hydra, I've seen human nature at its core, at its truest, most desperate self, and nothing good lives there."

Wanda's lips parted at those words and she saw Pietro tense next to her, but neither said anything.

"_No._" Von Strucker shook his head, face contorted with disgust. "You are a mindless weapon. A mere asset. You know nothing. You are but a necessity. Hydra made you to shape the forces of the world - and that is what you accomplished. You should feel proud. Everything you did, it ensured Hydra's supremacy. A better world. We made you a god. Winter was not a mere season. It was _unabating_. You have been the anonymous author of history. All that power and you chose to walk away from- "

"It wasn't possible to walk away _unscarred._ Everything I did, it was always _me_," the true man confessed and the utter regret emanating from his mind stole Wanda's breath. "This is my penance for the deaths I caused, the wars I fueled. It's what I know. I've found my redemption."

"You found _nothing!_ You have no idea of the plans in which you're interfering. You are a brute unable to accept his past. We were trying to save the world through you and Project Insight!"

"Everyone in Hydra thinks the same. You have _ideals_. Some, like you, think you're doing the right thing, for whatever reason, but then it has consequences that you never imagined. I'm your consequence, Wolfgang von Strucker."

"No!" Von Strucker shouted, spittle exploding past his snarling lips. "You don't know what you're after! You're reputed to be a warrior-god by most of Hydra, more clever and capable than any mere _mortal_, but we transformed you into that! Dr. Zola- "

_Insanity!_

Wanda had not been prepared; she had never felt more petrified in her entire life - and based on the link, Pietro felt the same even though he didn't feel it as intimately as she did.

The Winter Soldier - _or was it the true man?_ \- had suddenly snapped at the mention of that Dr. Zola; visceral bolts of screeching lightning electrified his fury, seeming to burst out of his eyes, pulsing through everything in his sight. His mind burned with a raging fire, beginning to deform her own consciousness from the sheer magnitude of his hatred; it was a fire that could only be quenched by soul-fulfilling violence. A relentless, ferocious, brutal, vicious vengeance for all of the wrongs done to him; it was an almost psychopathic energy.

Before she could blink, react to the blazing stimuli registering in her mind, Von Strucker was suddenly, effortlessly hoisted into the air, dangling while still strapped to his chair in The Winter Soldier's flesh hand, iron grip crushing the throat.

Pietro's jaw had dropped, the Scepter gripped tighter in his hands. "He's _fast,_" he breathed out, stunned. "Not like me, but… he was able to catch me at the base."

She nodded, frozen in place, picking up the outermost of The Winter Soldier's thoughts and rage - and if the outermost utterly overwhelmed her, deformed her mind, then she couldn't imagine what his thoughts were at the center. She couldn't even properly think as Von Strucker thrashed in The Winter Soldier's grip, trying to escape, find reprieve, but there was none. If anything, the grip tightened, and tears streamed down Von Strucker's face, tendons in his throat bursting. She could feel his terror, feel his mind screaming as it tried to survive; it was horrifying.

"S- st- _stop,_" he choked out, eyes bulging from their sockets.

"I can punch my fist through your chest and rip out whatever the fuck it is you call a heart," the true man whispered in a deadly hiss, the _whirring_ of the lax bionic arm at his side ominous, terrifying in the deadly silence as Von Strucker's tear-filled eyes gazed down at the true man. "My hatred for you and Hydra_ burns_. It's like pure fire in my veins. You're going to meet all your fucking allies in Hell soon enough."

Von Strucker's face rippled and began to turn deathly pale, a blue tinge appearing, and Wanda was about to frantically speak up when the true man, with a mere flick of his wrist, sent Von Strucker sailing through the air until he harshly crashed into the wall. The thick wooden chair splintered into pieces from the sheer force, and Von Strucker collapsed to the floor, free from his bonds, but there would clearly be no escape.

Wanda could breathe easier, and she wasn't the only one. Von Strucker gasped, sounding wheezed as he heaved in gulps of air, a permanent imprint shining on his neck as the tears streaming down his cheeks slowly stopped.

The Winter Soldier loomed over Von Strucker. "Access my file."

Von Strucker snarled, bringing a hand to rub at his throat. "Wi- with _what?_ Pierce should have kept you where you belong: Confined in that icy tomb."

The Winter Soldier stepped forward, and after raising his leg that resembled a tree trunk, smashed it downward onto Von Strucker's knee. A howl screeched through the room and Wanda could only stare at Von Strucker's decimated knee, the bones that were nowhere to be seen - _they had been crushed into fragments!_

Von Strucker writhed on the floor, cringing and thrashing, but The Winter Soldier said nothing, and Wanda suddenly realized that he was waiting for her. She swallowed and kneeled down to reach for the bag, pulling the laptop out. Pietro helped her to her feet, and she nodded at him before walking to The Winter Soldier. As she approached, her eyes wandered to Von Strucker and the massive bruises on his face, the harsh imprint on his throat, the decimated knee, caused her to stare. Then there were Von Strucker's eyes, filled with tears, fear, and rage.

"Here," she murmured, giving The Winter Soldier the laptop, fearful of what he could do to her.

"Give it to him."

"_What?"_ she hissed out, wide-eyed. "To _him?"_

"Use your powers," The Winter Soldier intoned, not looking at her. "You need control. This will teach you. You hate this man and he is a distraction to your focus. Do not be distracted."

Pietro appeared next to her in a blur, but The Winter Soldier didn't even react. Wanda inhaled slowly and slowly focused on the laptop, feeling the touch of the sleek metal vanish from her fingers. It floated in the air, a red mist surrounding it, and she grit her teeth, doing her best not to crush the laptop or remember that Von Strucker was hatefully glaring at her.

The computer floated in the air, drifting towards Von Strucker, and then she gently, scrunching her face in concentration, lowered it to the floor besides… Von Strucker's crushed knee.

"Access my file," The Winter Soldier commanded.

Von Strucker's mind touched hers and she registered his resigned acceptance; he reached for the laptop. "It will take a while."

"You have two minutes."

Angered, he glared up at The Winter Soldier. Wanda and Pietro's presence seemed to vanish from both of their minds. "You don't know what you're doing."

"My mission is beyond you. The destruction of Hydra is my only concern. It is all that matters. All that ever will."

Von Strucker smiled but there was nothing pleasant about it; it was so, so cold-looking as his fingers flew over the keys, inputting whatever information was necessary to access The Winter Soldier's file. "Only a coward hides in the dark when waging war."

"Only a coward experiments on humans. You are a coward, Wolfgang von Strucker. I wage war from the shadows, from the depths of silence, and until Hydra is exterminated, I will never rest."

"And what would Captain Rogers think of his _best friend_ now?"

Wanda saw a flash of two similar men, one frail-looking, but then the other one was… Her breathing froze when she recognized the larger version of the same man - _it was Captain America!_ The Winter Soldier - what had Von Strucker called him, Bucky Barnes? - was Captain America's best friend?

"I don't care," The Winter Soldier - _or was it the true man?_ \- responded simply. "This is for me. For _her._" Wanda saw the flaming red hair once again. "This is my therapy, my vengeance. My redemption."

Von Strucker shook his head. "Even if you kill me, there will be others. Cut off one Head, and two more wi- "

"Sooner or later, candidates will run out. I will never _stop._ When Hydra finally dies, I will feel peace; its death will _renew_ my life." The abrupt yearning emanating from The Winter Soldier made Wanda swallow. "I will live again."

"Here." Von Strucker's face twisted and he showed The Winter Soldier the laptop. Wanda glimpsed the glowing screen, saw thousands upon thousands of pages available to view. "It's all there."

The Winter Soldier took it from his hands and looked over the file for several moments. Then, before Wanda could react, Von Strucker's head snapped back like a slingshot as his face was blown apart, blood spraying the wall behind him, produced by the gun suddenly in The Winter Soldier's hand, the gunshot echoing in the small room.

Wanda jumped back, staring at Von Strucker's dead body, the now-unrecognizable mass of flesh that was supposed to be a face, barely registering the feeling of Pietro's arms around her.

"_He's terrifying," _her brother whispered in her mind. _"We don't have to worry about that happening to us, do we? Do you think- "_

She nodded, heart rate finally slowing down, and she answered in his mind. _"He has his answers and we're on his side. Von Strucker was certain everything Barnes wanted is in the file."_

"_What about Stark?"_

"_We'll wait."_ Looking over at The Winter Soldier, who was ignoring them as his riveted eyes scanned his file, she wondered if he would help them with Stark. _"Captain America is, supposedly, Barnes' best friend."_

"_Wait. That's who he was talking about when he said Captain Rogers? Does that mean Barnes won't help us with Stark?"_

"_He hates Hydra only. As you could see, it's greater than any hatred we could muster up for Tony Stark. It's insane."_

"_Wait. Are you having second thoughts? You don't want to avenge Mom and Dad?"_

"_No. It was an observation. I don't think Barnes will help us with Stark - no matter if his help would be invaluable. If it comes to it, we'll go our separate ways once he teaches us control." _

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****The Winter Soldier appears and frees the Maximoff twins from Hydra to form a triumvirate while getting Loki's Scepter! I wasn't a huge fan of The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes' portrayal after **_**Captain America: The Winter Soldier**_**. I mean, he was such an intriguing, tragic character - more intriguing than anyone in the MCU after maybe Loki, in my opinion. But all that intrigue was ruined, for after being a prisoner for seventy years and forced to be a monster who everyone in the world, if they knew of him, feared, it felt dull when Bucky hardly seemed to have any anger. I mean, in all reality, he was grieving everything that happened to him, grieving with what he was forced into becoming. He must go through the stages of grief, and in his case, anger would be the most consuming and dangerous and longest. I mean, Bucky's whole reaction to being violated in the worst ways imaginable for **_**seventy years**_** was incredibly lackluster. Sure, he knows that with who and what he is, his anger is potentially dangerous and that he's one of the most dangerous people on the planet, but he's not perfect. He's broken and in pain, and anger and hatred would be a perfect outlet into which he can lose himself and not dwell on the horrors he suffered, he endured. Going after Hydra would be cathartic for him, but instead, for reasons I can't fathom, they didn't have him do that. **

**I really didn't like that, in Canon, he just vanished and did nothing. He just continued to let Hydra operate and run rampant and experiment (remember in **_**Age of Ultron**_**, Ultron mentioned that the Maximoff twins were the only ones to survive Von Strucker's experiments, meaning that, most likely, there were a lot of people being tortured/experimented on like Bucky). That's how people like the Maximoffs and Ultron came about, but that should have never happened because The Winter Soldier/Bucky could have, in all honesty, done something to at least try to stop it, but instead, he turned a willfully blind eye to everything. He'd want revenge, something completely justifiable and rational, for everything that happened to him, but instead of doing that, he runs away and hides, exiling himself from society like a Byronic hero. I mean, the Byronic hero is a brooding, withdrawn, exiled man who rebels against conventional notions of society and virtue all the while haunted by his tragic past. The only problem I have with The Winter Soldier/Bucky being characterized in such a way is that as both The Soldier and Bucky, he was always a man of action, so he would never just sit around to brood about his tragic past. He'd do something about it to redeem himself from everything that he was, all the death he caused, rebel against the powers that sentenced him to such a terrible fate. Kind of similar in that regard to Batman, who fights crime dressed as a bat to deal with the traumatic past of never getting over his parents' murder. In my opinion, that should have been The Winter Soldier/Bucky's characterization after Hydra's Uprising (maybe reference it in **_**Age of Ultron,**_** how the destruction of bases was getting more and more common or something before they retrieved Loki's Scepter), but that's not what happened, so I'm doing it in this. **

**If you're wondering why The Winter Soldier is more "powerful" than the twins, it's because they've hardly had time to train their powers, to really understand and control them. To be blunt, they're children in the presence of a man with a wise brain but a young, Super-Soldier body. **

****S.H.I.E.L.D. has a meeting about a mysterious group who they notice is attacking Hydra (it's The Winter Soldier, although they don't know it) and talk about Ward some more since Skye was 'kidnapped.' Of course, more arguments break out about what to do about Ward, and spearheaded by Morse, Tripp, and even Fitz, they point things out, but they're all shot down by Coulson and May and Simmons, who are the most vocal and adamant about Ward being a monstrous enemy. In case it's not clear by now, the GH-325 is affecting Coulson's judgment, his rational mode of thinking. As for May, she's just bitter that Ward completely and utterly outwitted her, outsmarted her, and Simmons is still furious about what happened to Fitz. Really, while S.H.I.E.L.D. is an espionage organization, the leadership acts and makes decisions based on emotions and favoritism instead of logic. **

****Skye deals with the aftermath of Dr. Zenfield's revelations and how to help Ward. When she realizes how close she is to meeting her father, she panics and invites Ward to have a drink, which eventually leads to them falling into bed together. Skye's reached a point where she trusts Ward again completely, and after everything that's happened, she knows she can trust him. They're both finding solace in each other, I guess you could say.**

****Von Strucker is captured by The Winter Soldier and Maximoff twins so that The Winter Soldier can access his full file. I didn't address it in the last chapter, but The Widow who "corrupted" The Winter Soldier is Black Widow. It lines up with events/scenarios from the comics, for they had an illicit affair that threatened to undermine everything if I remember correctly. I also wanted to differentiate between The Winter Soldier, who is still a major part of James Buchanan Barnes' personality, and the true man in Bucky/James. If you think about it, when you realize all the things Bucky's experienced as The Soldier and through life since he's nearly a century old, he's wise but also pissed the fuck off - and remember, since he's a Super-Soldier, his mind and memory are superior, so once he got his memories back, once he healed, he'd remember **_**everything**_**. He's almost older than anyone alive but he also has the mental and physical fortitude of man in the prime of his life while having all the wisdom of an elderly person - that makes him immensely dangerous. **

**The Maximoff twins and Winter Soldier's appearances are there for a reason; they'll play a role in the story, don't worry. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	8. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein the **_**Marvel Cinematic Universe**_**.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

"It is a joy to see you again, Mr. Ward."

Grant narrowly quelled the urge to pull out his gun and put a bullet between Bakshi's soulless eyes but allowed no signs of his inward struggle to appear on his face. His loss of control would provoke their deaths, for the Agents surrounding Bakshi looked at him with disdain.

"Bakshi, I see you're no longer demoted," he observed dryly. "Whitehall realized his mistake?"

"_Cue the horseshit,"_ John called out. _"Watch. I betcha whatever he says probably came from a second-rate horse's ass." _

Bakshi smiled thinly before looking directly at Skye; his eyes widened at the full view of her face. "_You._ She's S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

All of the Agents readied their weapons, aimed directly at them, and Skye, in alarm, gripped his arm tightly, but he merely rolled his eyes, amused at Bakshi's idiocy.

"Not anymore," he said blandly. "She's with me. I needed someone on the inside. She's my plus-one. Whitehall knows. Now put your guns down."

None of the Agents did.

His eyes narrowed, not feeling at all amused anymore.

"_Give 'em hell!"_ John commanded.

"That's an _order,_" he hissed out, drawing himself upward. "You don't want to piss off a Hydra Head, do you?"

The effect was instantaneous. The Agents all paled, dropping their weapons, apologies tumbling from their lips in an effort to escape an inevitable death.

"_Atta boy!"_

Before Grant could punish them properly, a familiar voice spoke.

"You command power, Grant Ward."

Daniel Whitehall stepped into view, passing through the parted Agents, and Skye's grip on his arm tightened even further; he felt proud, though, when she stared at Whitehall head-on as she subtly shifted her body into a fighting stance.

"_Well, Whitehall's not changed a bit,"_ John muttered sarcastically. _"That son of a bitch. I wish it had been my idea to steal that woman's immortality." _

"A Hydra Head without power is like a gun without bullets," he responded to Whitehall, voice bored. "Useless."

"Well said." Whitehall's eyes moved to Skye and Grant didn't like how those cold eyes sharpened. "So, this is your siren? I see why you chose her. She is _beautiful_. Memorable. Her eyes are captivating. Remarkable."

"So's my right hook," Skye snarked, tension lined in her beautiful face. "You keep staring at me, you'll feel it."

"_You think she'll go for Whitehall's immortal balls? What about his jaw? I vote balls."_

Whitehall's eyes sparked with interest. "I think I feel it already."

"You gonna invite us in?" Grant asked, getting Whitehall's attention away from Skye. "Not a very accommodating host, are you?"

"Forgive me," Whitehall commented, unaffected. "I was merely taken by your siren - as I'm sure you were when you first laid eyes on her. I wasn't lying when I described her."

"And I wasn't lying about that right hook," Skye snapped, fire appearing in her eyes. "You're getting awfully close to feeling it."

"_She's definitely going for the balls,"_ John said, laughing. _"I don't like what she does to you, but damn it, I like her style. That spunk!"_

"Very well." Whitehall turned around. "Come. We have much to discuss, Grant Ward."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Dimly lit, the room cast ominous shadows, but Skye was more concerned with Whitehall. The man who had probably murdered her mother gave her the creeps like no one else she had ever encountered. She had met monsters before - Garrett, the Senator, and her father, mainly - but while she had hated and feared the Senator, she had really liked Garrett before she realized the truth. She had thought him the perfect grandfather S.O. for her, and that maybe he could help her get closer to Grant, but that had all been shot to hell.

And her father… she couldn't think of him too much; it would overwhelm her. All she knew is that she was terrified - of him or the truths that he would reveal, she couldn't decipher.

But Whitehall, he was something else entirely. She wasn't sure if emotions even registered in the man's heart; he seemed colder than the Arctic. He was exactly as she had imagined the Hydra Heads to be, and when she remembered how Dr. Zenfield said he was over a century old, she knew there was much more to Whitehall than at first glance; based on watching him for a few seconds, he seemed to know things about everything, but refused to share his knowledge.

What a hoarder.

Grant easily reclined in the offered chair before Whitehall's large desk, and Skye, again, was amazed at how effortlessly he could act in different situations as she sat down beside him. The night before had been incredible, and she had barely been able to ever catch her breath before he started to continue his amorous pace - _oh, she shivered just thinking about the things he could do, especially with his fingers and tongue, how he set her body on fire!_ \- but now, he was infallible, unflappable.

She hated it. While his confidence reassured her more than any spoken words, she wanted the Grant who had made love to her, held her as she slept, and had even been tender. But she had made the choice to go see her father - and there was no going back now.

_Skye laid in Grant's arms, her head on his chest, fingers drifting over hard muscles. Sweat coated her skin, and she had trouble remembering when she had ever felt so relaxed, so peaceful. _

_She slid back to look at him, her breasts brushing against his side; their eyes locked and she smiled._

"_Am I that good?" she teased. "You're speechless?"_

_Grant's huff of laughter soothed her. "Well, you made John speechless. I can't hear him. I don't see him, either. I'm… enjoying the quiet."_

_While she felt immensely relieved that she had offered him a solace away from Garrett, she inherently knew that it wouldn't be permanent. _

"_After everything, what happens?" she asked, not wanting to ruin the moment, but she needed to know. "What are you going to do?"_

"_It depends. I don't know what's going to happen, nor what your father's going to say."_

"_So, you're saying it depends on me?"_

"_I have no plans," he admitted and his gorgeous eyes teemed with memories. "The only plan I remember having that was just for me was when I tried to murder Christian by burning down the house with him inside. All my other plans have always been for you, Tommy, John, S.H.I.E.L.D., and Hydra."_

"_That's depressing," she murmured. "Don't you want to do things? Don't you have… dreams?"_

_Grant's eyes flickered. "Since I was fifteen, my dream was to save John."_

_That fact made Skye feel miserable, but she pressed on. "What about now? I mean, he's gone. Your… dream didn't come true."_

"_Well, since I met you, I've wanted to be… better." Grant's eyes held her own, and she felt her misery at Garrett disappear. "You… make me want to be better."_

_She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. "Were you practicing that?"_

"_No."_

_Skye hummed, teasing, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. "I don't think so. My computer just rejected it. I have a coded formula and everything. You're gonna have to try harder."_

"_If I were you, I wouldn't be so certain."_

"_Oh, lighten up." Her fingers drifted under the sheet, feeling his heated flesh. "Thank you for being honest with me."_

"_Thank you for believing me."_

"_I hope my father is as honest as you," she whispered, a moment of doubt creeping up on her. "I don't even know if I'll know if he's lying or not. For all I know, he could tell me a bunch of lies."_

_Grant's fingers grazed her bare back, voice thoughtful. "I guess it takes faith to trust that you won't be lied to."_

_She smirked. "Then I'm pretty faithful to you, aren't I?" _

"_The point is, it's a choice to have that faith in someone. I mean, life is a series of choices, whether good or bad. We're defined by those choices. I left juvie with John and joined Hydra. You changed your name to Skye and you later joined S.H.I.E.L.D.. I chose to follow John all the way through and paid the price. You stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. through their darkest hours. I chose to be honest with you, and now, you've chosen to trust me, believe me, and… love me. All of this, it's your choice. I'm not going to force you to do anything, and I won't let your father, either. Okay?"_

_Feeling touched, she smiled. "When did you get so philosophical?"_

"_It's not philosophy. Just a fact." _

"_Well, another fact is that after everything happens, I want you to be part of my life. I want you to be there with me." Skye held his gaze, aware of how their bare bodies molded together. "That's my dream."_

_Grant's lips curled, but his gorgeous eyes were clouded. "That's a nice dream. But what about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Coulson tried to ship me off to Christian to be executed. If May saw me again, she'd put a bullet between my eyes, and based on what you've said, it wouldn't surprise me if Simmons would do the same thing. They'll never trust me again, and that's just how it is. I know how much they mean to you, so… I understand if you want to go back and- "_

_She lifted her hand and placed her index finger over his lips. "I can't run away from you. You need me. And… I need you, too. But enough about S.H.I.E.L.D. and everyone. We can talk about them later. Right now, there are other needs we both feel that need to be taken care of." _

_He smirked, promises entering his eyes. "Another round sounds nice."_

"_Yes, it does." She slid down intentionally, grinding her body against his, and felt his manhood spring to life; her body joined his. "Help me take care of this need, Grant." _

Skye blinked and felt the tense air, felt the silence bear against her mind; it was so quiet that she would have been able to hear a pin drop.

Whitehall stared back at Grant, seated behind his desk, the two men's sets of eyes - gorgeous versus cold - locking, not blinking. It felt like a courteous dick-measuring contest, like a message was trying to be sent, but whatever it was, it clearly didn't resonate in Grant. Or maybe it did, but he was playing a role. She didn't know. She also didn't interrupt the dick-measuring contest, for she knew if she spoke, it would draw Whitehall's attention, and she did not want his attention.

Finally, Whitehall spoke after several more moments. "Scenarios have played out in my mind as to how this encounter would arrive, but I never imagined this," he mused. "Some aspects are the same, so you might say it's a variation on the theme."

"Cut the horseshit."

Skye's breathing froze at Grant's sharp words, but she was even more surprised when Whitehall only smiled - and it was without any teeth.

"It's a musician's term. I trust you like music."

"I don't see what the hell music has to do with you or me."

"Think of the eminent composers, the ones endlessly immortalized. Bach. Handel. Mozart. Beethoven. Schubert. Chopin- "

"Get to your chorus," Grant demanded flatly.

"Their works, centuries after their deaths, still exist in many hearts. Those great men left legacies for _all-time._ I trust that you understand the connection I'm making."

Skye had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

Grant only nodded. "Hydra. Hydra will make a legacy that lasts for all-time. Centuries from now, Hydra's works will still exist in everyone's heart."

Blown away, Skye thought that was the biggest bullshit she had ever heard.

"_Yes._ That is what it means to be a Hydra Head, Grant Ward. That is your new purpose, a goal for which you should always strive. Every decision you execute as a Head will directly affect Hydra's legacy."

"Thanks for the tip. What else do you have for me?"

"The information I am about to share with you is only meant for those such as us - _Heads._"

"She stays with me," Grant drawled, motioning towards Skye, looking bored but superior; she suddenly began to realize what it truly meant to be a good Specialist.

How had she ever thought that she could actually become a Specialist?

Skye had always known of Grant's cleverness, the inventiveness that it took to be a Specialist, but she was finally beginning to realize that being a Specialist meant being from another world, a lethal world where a single misstep could kill you. Every move had to be premeditated in three or four dimensions. While Jemma had always turned her nose down at Specialists, deeming them brutes incapable of higher modes of thinking, Skye realized that the intellect played a huge - _huge!_ \- role in the violent world that non-violent people like Jemma would never recognize. If Jemma or Skye herself was a Specialist, she knew that both of them would fail; they would be killed because they couldn't think fast enough or deeply enough.

"Would you reconsider?" Whitehall asked. "Perhaps Bakshi could- "

"That's my condition," Grant said, staring at Whitehall. "She _stays. _I've already told her a lot of things. Will my condition be a problem?"

Skye felt dread, for the way Whitehall's eyes gleamed through those glasses was so, so cold; how he observed her - like she was a prized specimen - made her skin crawl. "Very well. She is clearly _special._"

"Good. Then what do you need to tell me?"

"Von Strucker is missing," Whitehall said, but while Grant didn't react next to her, she was stunned to hear that the Hydra Head working with Loki's Sceptre was gone, but not stunned enough to miss the slight glee in Whitehall's voice; she remembered how Grant and Bakshi had spoken about Whitehall and Von Strucker's rivalry. "His base was decimated. Key experiments that he was conducting have also gone missing."

"An elite task force, perhaps?" Grant asked, voice calm. "Although, I can't think of any capable of such a mission. Sokovia's base was a fortress. Only a group with intimate knowledge about Hydra could pull something like that off. They'd have to know the layout… Actually, it could've been an inside job because all of Hydra's bases are designed the same. While the sizes are different, you can easily find your way around if you've been on another base."

"Do you think it was an inside job?"

"No. Who'd be idiotic _and_ skilled enough to go after Von Strucker? And be able to leave the kind of destruction that would have to be unleashed to even get him? Able to know the layout of the bases and its weakest points? So that leaves… Well, hacking into the Pentagon is Stark's version of breakfast, so if I had to actually guess, I'd say The Avengers."

"A rational calculation, but you do not have all the facts. We have Agents watching Tony Stark, and he has barricaded himself with Dr. Banner in his tower. The Agents watching Jane Foster, Thor's lover, have reported that Thor has remained by her side for months. We believe that The Winter Soldier is responsible for Von Strucker's assumed abduction, the destruction of the base, and most damning, the liberation of Von Strucker's experiments. We believe that they have allied with The Soldier."

Skye understood what that meant - human experiments, just like The Winter Soldier and even Grant had been - and she was unable to keep her eyes from looking at Grant, remembering Dr. Zenfield's truths about the trail of bodies Grant's father was leaving, something which Whitehall noticed.

"You know of The Winter Soldier?" her mother's probable murderer asked, voice curious, devoid of any surprise.

She stiffened before abruptly relaxing; she could do it. "Who hasn't?" she asked flippantly. "I mean, the files after Black Widow dumped them over the internet were insane. Plus, how could a single person destroy an entire Hydra base? That's impossible."

"On the contrary, The Winter Soldier's unique ability to cripple entire bases has always been well-known." The way that Whitehall gazed at Grant forced Skye to wonder if he knew that The Winter Soldier was Grant's father. "Pierce was too lax in his handling of The Asset. Because of his follies, The Soldier has been lost to us - and thus, frustratingly, the plans we had for him have dissipated."

"Plans?" Grant asked, curious. She didn't know if he was curious for an act, or if he really wanted to know more about his… father.

"Originally, Pierce had other plans for The Asset after Project Insight. With Pierce's demise, the succession of control of The Asset would have been called into question if The Asset had not vanished. Malick wanted The Soldier as a host for his alien entity while Von Strucker and I each wanted The Soldier for the spirits of our… inquiries."

Skye was willing to wager her life that Whitehall was talking about experimentation when he said inquiries.

"But The Asset has broken away, learned to think and act for himself," Whitehall continued. "Initially, we weren't worried. You see, The Winter Soldier's identity revolves around Hydra; without his purpose to extend our supremacy, he is nothing. His reason to exist was effectively negated when he vanished. But we were wrong. His sense of authority and power have returned; he has become the reality of our worst fears. He has transformed into Frankenstein's monster with torment beyond that of that creature's, ensuring a much more dangerous foe - one with intimate knowledge of everything Hydra has accomplished and planned since his transformation."

While Skye thought that it might be more akin to Prometheus rebelling against the tyrannical Zeus, Grant didn't bat an eye at any of Whitehall's words, only easily shrugging his shoulders, and she could only wonder what Garrett was telling him. "Well, it's not surprising that The Soldier did it. I've heard the stories; he's the best. And clearly, he wants vengeance. He's got a vendetta against Hydra."

"And _your_ vendetta is against S.H.I.E.L.D., correct?" Whitehall seemed to answer his own question as he nodded his head. "Yes, Bakshi mentioned that Phil Coulson killed your mentor after he had received his second chance at life."

"Yes."

Skye tried not to let her dismay show on her face, for with that information, she doubted that Grant and Coulson would ever see eye-to-eye about anything - except maybe about her, but even then, she felt doubtful.

"I understand your loathing for S.H.I.E.L.D.," Whitehall murmured, a spark of something flickering in his eyes. It was more unsettling than his toothless smiles. "You were imprisoned by those blind fools. I know how that feels."

"Then we're on the same page," Grant replied. "We have a common enemy."

She tried not to grimace; she was pretty sure that she succeeded.

"Good. I was curious when both you and Garrett vanished during The Uprising. I didn't know if you were dead or captured. Now I know it was both." Whitehall quieted for several moments, eerie eyes assessing, focused solely on Grant; she felt relieved they weren't focused on her. "Garrett introduced you to Hydra. How did he do so?"

Grant's eyebrow quirked. "He pulled me out of juvie. Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?"

"Then why did you join Hydra, Grant Ward?" Whitehall gave a patronizing smile and Skye was absolutely certain that Grant wanted to shoot him. "How did Garrett convince you at a mere fifteen years of age?"

"John said Hydra knew how to survive - like us."

Skye barely refrained from rolling her eyes at such a claim, which totally sounded like something Garrett would say.

Whitehall's lips stretched into a cold smile. "While my methods of survival were more successful than Garrett's, his methods live on in you. _You_ are a survivor, Grant Ward - we are kindred spirits, as men and Heads."

Her hands curled into fists and she stuffed them by her thighs so Whitehall wouldn't see the evidence of her disgust and fury.

"Hydra does understand survival. Every man and woman, in the process of devotion, realize it. Your mother was one of the few brilliant enough to embody it. I knew her." At Grant's lack of reaction, Whitehall nodded to himself, as if something had been confirmed. "You knew your mother was Hydra?"

"A scientist," Grant answered flatly. "I'm a legacy member."

"And what led you to murder a fellow legacy member of Hydra, your own brother?" Whitehall didn't look angry at all, only curious.

"A family squabble," he responded carelessly. "It was a long time coming, believe me."

Whitehall hummed; it was unnerving. "Malick is furious with your brother's murder, but I'm not. Yes, there were plans in place once your brother was to take control of the White House, and those plans were derailed when you murdered him, but now… I believe superior plans will ensure Hydra's supremacy. The loss of your brother is gaping, but I believe that your arrival, your return and acceptance of your position, more than negates everything lost. Malick is a fool."

A chill descended Skye's spine, and her eyes widened when Grant laughed; it sounded completely genuine and authentic, but she inherently knew it was as false as Whitehall's kindness.

"I know I'm the best not named The Soldier, but that's awfully generous. I hate politics. If I go into Washington, I'd probably kill the first person to piss me off."

"Another ingress has been opened. A _better_ one. We shall discuss it more at length another time." Skye stiffened as Whitehall turned to look at her, those horrible eyes seeming to stare into her soul. "Your siren looks overwhelmed. Tired."

Grant wasn't affected as he pulled her to her feet as he stood up. "I have something to do anyway. Bakshi mentioned someone unhinged - Mr. Zabo. How closely will I be working with him?"

Skye avoided the urge to look at Grant in confusion. Who was Mr. Zabo? Was that… her father?

Whitehall's eyes gleamed. "Are you afraid?"

"The only thing I'm afraid of is jeopardizing our alliance if I put a bullet between Mr. Zabo's eyes if he gets too crazy."

"I see."

"How about I go speak with him? Tell him what's what. Introduce myself, if you will."

Skye didn't like how Whitehall smiled. "Bakshi will take you to Mr. Zabo if you wish. This is the inception of a grand partnership of two Heads that will achieve great things."

Grant only nodded her head and motioned for her to follow him out the door.

Again, Skye didn't like how Whitehall smiled at them as they left the room.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Bakshi was a welcome face when compared to that of his master's. While she had the feeling that Grant wanted to kill him, he allowed Bakshi to lead them to the room where Mr. Zabo was. When they arrived, the room was empty, and Grant had just said they would wait until Mr. Zabo returned, inspiring Bakshi's departure.

She whirled to face him, face anxious. "Is it _him?_ Is he my…?"

Grant grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch, bypassing scattered papers strewn about on a table. "I think so. You've met him already, so with one look at him, you'll know. If somehow, it isn't him, I'll actually go find him."

Her heart beat faster and her breathing became choppy, rushed. May's teachings about control were nowhere to be found and she was left flailing in desperation, panic.

"I've imagined this moment so many times," she whispered, sighing in relief when his arms slowly enveloped her, and for the first time since she had stepped foot onto the Hydra base, she felt safe. "Even in my dreams, I've seen it. Now that it's here… I don't know. Part of me wants to see him, but another part wants to be as far away from him as possible."

Grant looked down at her, eyes intent. "Say the word, and I'll get us immediately off the base and far away. No questions asked."

"_No,_" she said, closing her eyes tightly, shaking her head. "Even if it's a small part of me, it will always haunt me not knowing the truth. It's already haunted me not knowing the truth. To turn away fro- from _this_ chance, it'd be so much worse. Remember what you told me about choices? Well, I've made mine. I'm going to talk to him."

"I think you've made the right choice. But… I don't know if you're going into it with an open mind."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you've already made up your mind that your father is a monster, and no matter what he says or does, he'll always be one. I think your sense of… fiction has overwritten reality."

"_What?"_

Grant sighed. "You know about Robin Hood, right?"

"Of course. What does that have to do- "

"Did you know that there was an actual Robin Hood? But he wasn't a noble of Locksley; he was a thieving, barbaric Saxon chief who opposed the Normans and is only praised because of a legend."

Skye stared at him. "_What_ are you talking about?"

"That man was fictionalized into a different variation of what he might have actually been, but he was _real_. Just like your father's real and he could have been fictionalized. Now, maybe your father is a monster unworthy to be thought about, but don't make that judgment until you know everything and have given him a chance to explain. Isn't that what you did for me? You finally let me explain and talked to me, and you realized that I wasn't a monster. You need to do the same for your father."

She swallowed. "You know a lot about history."

"I had a lot of time to read about it in the woods."

"Well, I'm just grateful that you understand what it's like to have… a difficult family," she whispered, taking comfort from his embrace.

"More than you know."

"I _do _know, and that's why I'm grateful. I kind of feel like your brother and my father are similar, but I don't think my father will lie to me. I mean, at first, your brother was in no way honest like Coulson said. It was only after- "

Grant stiffened. "He said that? _Coulson_?"

"He said that."

"That's what he said?"

"That's what he said."

His face spasmed. "That dumb son of a bitch."

It was that exact moment when Skye felt certain that there would never be a reconciliation between Grant and Coulson - thus, between Grant and S.H.I.E.L.D.. Too much blood, physically and metaphorically, had been shed. There was too much animosity, too much sheer hatred. While she had held out desperate hope, it now seemed impossible. The gap was too large for any bridge.

The thought of Coulson made her pause. She hadn't really thought about him since before Dr. Zenfield, not including the talk in bed between her and Grant, but what would happen when she saw him again - and she was certain that she would? Would he be disappointed with her? With the fact that she chose to stop fighting her love for Grant? With the fact that she'd already slept with him - and was definitely, absolutely going to keep doing so because the man made her body sing?

Coulson had been the father figure in her life for over the past year, but now that she had found and was about to meet her true father, what did that mean? Where did that leave her? And what about Grant? What about the chaotic, deadly relationship between her father figure in Coulson and her… her what? Her lover? It didn't matter what Grant was, but what did matter is that she didn't want to… leave him. She didn't want to have to choose.

Grant's hand suddenly squeezed her own; his gorgeous eyes were locked onto her. "I hear someone coming. Are you ready?"

Skye felt her pulse quicken, dimly wondering how enhanced Grant's senses were since he was a Super-Soldier - an even better one than Captain America and The Winter Soldier - but it was overshadowed by the knowledge that her father's arrival was imminent.

The door opened and her father - it was definitely her father, no denying it - froze at the sight of them, his face slackening, body shuddering underneath his suit, a myriad of expressions crossing his face as the door automatically swung shut.

Grant slowly pulled her to her feet, and she followed, feeling nothing but numbness. She had wanted to see her father again, to know the truth, but what if the truths were like Dr. Zenfield's?

Her father's eyes were wide and filled with tears, lips parted in shock, voice a whisper. "_Hi._ You look so much like your mother," he choked out. "A spit- spitting _image_." The tears slowly spilled down his cheeks and he looked so, so human; she almost forgot about all the deaths that he was responsible for. "Last time, it was too dark to notice, but now… you look just like her. Even the way you're anxiously wringing your hands - and those _hands, _they're just like your mother's."

Skye suddenly realized that she was doing exactly that and forced herself to stop, but it did nothing to stop the information about her mother from overwhelming her, the fact that she would never know her mother or see for herself how much she looked like her. Her free hands began to slightly shake and with Grant's concerned gaze giving her strength, she was able to make herself observe her father, staring at his features, looking for any resemblance between them.

She found none.

"I've imagined this moment," her father said, eyes filling with manic energy.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who imagined how moments would play out. Her father and Whitehall had, and she did believe them monsters, so what did it mean that she did the same things they did? Was she a monster, too?

"But always, we were _alone._" Those manic eyes glared at Grant, fury etched deep within them. "Whoever you are, _leave._ I want to be alone with _my_ lost daughter."

Skye was incapable of speech, completely unsure of what to say to her father, but thankfully, Grant spoke, looking so calm and confident; he suddenly looked more arrogant than anyone she had ever seen.

"Mr. Zabo, is it?"

"_Who_ are you?"

"Well, since you clearly don't give a damn about being diplomatic, I'll act the same. Understand?"

Her father's face rippled. "I understand that I don't like you."

Grant shrugged. "I don't care. You're not what I was expecting. I pictured someone… bigger. A man of your _reputation…_ I guess appearances are deceiving."

"You're not making this a pleasant reunion, something I've looked forward to for a _lifetime._"

"Your daughter puts up with me, which more than offsets any opinion you could ever have."

Her father's eyes flashed and she glimpsed the lurking insanity brighten like lightning in those eyes that looked nothing like her own. "I can rip you apart."

"_Blunt._ I like it, but I don't like being threatened. Makes me not like you - and while I don't care if you like me, I _really_ want to like you for Skye's sake."

"_That_ is not her name!" her father abruptly roared, taking a step forward but in the blink of an eye, Grant had pulled out his pistol and had it aimed directly at her father's skull.

Skye was frozen in place, senses faltering as she tried to get control of herself, to control the situation - but she felt powerless.

"Careful," Grant warned. "This isn't how I want your reunion to go."

"Then put the gun down."

"You're giving _me_ orders?" To her shock, a small smile graced his lips. "I respect it, but _no._ I'll be the one giving the orders."

"Why would I follow your orders?"

"Because I'm the one with the gun."

"That won't stop me from killing you."

Grant nodded. "Yes. I've heard about your… ability to take out entire S.H.I.E.L.D. teams."

"Then you know what I'll do to you if you don't put down the gun. I don't like guns."

"And as I've already said, I don't like being threatened."

Her father's teeth gleamed like sharpened fangs. "You may be in the prime of your life, but as already observed, appearances are deceiving."

"I know all about that," Grant said, slowly putting down his gun, placing it back in the holster. Immediately, her father bolted forward and Skye's stunned eyes watched as her father snarled like a beast, fist surging towards Grant's face, but Grant simply caught it, squeezing tightly.

"_What?"_ her father gasped in pain and realization, a light entering his insane eyes. "You're one of them?"

"A Super-Soldier," Grant said, smirking. Skye was about to intervene, but then Grant abruptly released the fist and shoved her father back, who stumbled back, falling to the floor. "Now I see why you have such a reputation. You're strong, but I'm stronger. _Don't_ attack me again."

"Then leave," her father ordered as he stood back to his feet, the threat issued and based on Grant's expression, received.

"So that's it? That's how you're going to treat the one who got Skye away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and brought her to you?" Grant smiled mockingly and she didn't understand why he was intentionally provoking her father's rage. "You're very rude."

Her father's teeth gnashed together, looking like a rabid dog for a brief moment. "I'm very _impatient. _I want to speak to my daughter. _Alone._"

"Not only rude but _ungrateful._"

"So be it," her father replied sharply, staring at her.

Skye swallowed and grabbed Grant's arm, meeting his questioning eyes. "It's okay. I'll… I'll be okay."

Grant nodded at her and then stared at her father as he walked to the door. "I guess there's a lot of lost time to make up for."

He exited the room and Skye was left alone with her father.

"I never wanted it to be like _this,_" her father hissed out, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace in front of her; he looked like a wild animal. "I- I had _plans._ I wanted our reunion to be perfect. It was supposed to be, bu- but- but it's been _ruined._" Her father's angry gaze snapped to meet hers. "That _arrogant_ man, who is he?"

Skye tried to gather her confidence and crossed her arms. "He brought me to you. He convinced me to talk to you; he gave me the strength I needed to be here. Isn't that enough?"

Her father's eyes gleamed. "When you look at him the way you do, no. Not when he pointed a gun at me. Not when he's stronger than I am. Not when he tried to protect you from your own _father!"_ She took a sudden step back, scared at the rage shining in those eyes, and her father's eyes lost all evidence of rage; it was replaced by sheer panic, desperation. "I would _never_ hurt you. You must know that."

"How would I know that?" she demanded, finding courage in her anger. "How would Grant know that? All we know are stories about how much of a monster you are! The trail of death is paved by you!"

"_Who_ is he?"

"I love him."

Her father's eyes watered with tears. "I knew it. I've spent decades looking for you, doing everything to herald our reunion, but your Grant beat me to it. You're no longer my baby girl; you're _his_ now. You're no longer _mine. _I've- I've lost you ag- _again._"

Skye closed her eyes, trying to follow that line of thinking; it was crazy, but she had been used to crazy because some of Grant's thinking was totally messed up, too.

"I don't belong to anyone," she finally said, spacing her words. "I made a choice. Grant's amazing at things that I'm not, but I'm good at things that he's not."

"But you would do anything for him, yes?"

"Yes."

"I know that experience," her father whispered, pain-filled eyes locking onto her own. "I wasn't always like this, you know? You think I'm a monster. Maybe I am one, but I wasn't always. I once owned a clinic; it's how I met your mother. Everyone liked me an- and I… I liked them back. Everyone was so happy when we were married, but our… joy didn't last long. Your mother was everything to me. So were you." All remnants of humanity vanished when the mind-warping rage returned, stealing her breath. "They _stole_ you from me."

It was just like Grant had said in Vault D, and while his observation about Robin Hood rang in her ears, Skye needed more than that; she stared into her father's rage-seeped eyes with anger of her own. "And you what, lashed out in murderous hatred?"

"_Yes!"_

"And how do you think that makes me _feel?_ Knowing that you've spread all of this death, murdered all of those good people in _my name?"_ Tears filled her eyes and she did nothing to stop them; her sudden anguish was too strong to control. "Do- do you think that makes me feel _good?_ That it's because of _me_ that- "

"It was because of _them!" _her father screamed, arms swinging chaotically, eyes rabid; he looked primed, shot up like a nuclear rocket. "They _stole_ you from me! Just like Jiaying!"

Skye's lips parted, that name floating in the air. "Ji- _Jiaying?_ Is that…?"

"Your _mother_," her father choked out, both despair and loathing fighting for control as he shook and jerked his body around. "Oh, you don't even know her name. Your own _mother_. Yo- you don't even know _your name._ The- they have taken so much from us. You don't know where you're from, do you? You know nothing of- of your heritage_._ Your _destiny._"

She slowly sat down on the couch, eyes warily watching her father. "Wha- what don't I know?"

Her father froze and as he turned to her, he looked so hopeful, so joyful. "_Everything._ I'll teach you."

"Where… am I from?"

"You were born in China." While she had begun to expect that she was born someplace other than The United States, it was still a shock to hear. "I met your mother there, and I loved her like no one else until you came along. You were a gift, so precious. An- and you were so _happy_ as a baby." All signs of the rage were gone and her father looked lost in memories, voice calm and yearnful, eyes wet. "You didn't know how _not_ to smile." The tears slowly began to fall. "And your _laugh,_ I- I can still hear it. So beautiful. So wonderful. So _innocent._"

Skye felt overwhelmed and she floundered for any semblance of control. "And… my name?"

"Daisy. Daisy Johnson," her father said, murmuring it like it was a prayer, something holy. "Your mother's favorite flowers were daisies."

That was her name? Daisy?

She blinked rapidly, feeling a fog descend over her; she felt paralyzed, for she couldn't move! It was like the Senator but even worse. Everything was a blizzard, a tempest of freezing particles smashing against her face and skin, depriving her of whatever strength she had.

"Wha- what destiny are talking about?" she whispered.

Her father's eyes filled with zealous glee. "It's a moment I've waited for, for a long time. Once you are awakened, you will be able to aid me in destroying everyone who- "

"Are you Vader-ing me?" she demanded, leaning back into the couch, trying to instinctively get away from her father. "_No._ You don't know me. _That _is not who I am. I don't want whatever crazy things you have planned for me."

"It's your destiny."

"You _are_ Vader-ing me," she gasped out. "What do you know about my destiny? _What_ destiny?"

"Your mother was special."

Skye swallowed. "You mean a gifted."

"_Don't_ use that word!" her father roared, causing her to spring back, heart racing. Her father's face twisted with remorse. "Oh, Daisy, forgive me."

"That's not my name," she hissed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "My name is _Skye._"

"Daisy is the name your mother and I gave you."

"And I hold no memory of you or her," she snapped. "For all I know, you're lying to me."

"I would never lie about your destiny. _Never._" Her father slowly approached her, and she did nothing to stop him, beginning to feel a hollowness in her mind. "You are like your mother: _Special._ She came from a long line of people with gifts, and now it lives on in you; you inherited it. It's locked away, but I know how to unlock it. It's your _birthright,_ Daisy. You and your mother are so much more than a mere gifted. You are beautiful. _Divine._ Soon, you'll see."

Skye's face twisted with disgust. "And being part of _Hydra_ with you is my destiny?"

Her father's face twisted, too, but it wasn't with disgust - it was with rage, something which she seemed to slowly become immune to. "_No!_ Hydra is _scum._ They don't matter; they're _nothing!"_

"Yet you're _working_ with them," she spat out. "After what they did to… to _my mother._ Whitehall murdered her!"

"Yo- you _know?"_ her father breathed out. "You know what happened?"

Suddenly feeling unsure, Skye responded slowly, "She was a gif- … She was _special_, and Whitehall killed her in his experiments."

Her father looked so sad but so, so angry - it was an unholy combination. "He cut her up into pieces, stealing her organs, her blood, her _heart,_ as well as her life for his own." The words were said so awful, so horrible that she flinched. She had stared into her mother's murderer's eyes! She had… she had been in the same room as that monster! "I couldn't save her," her father mumbled, wringing his hands in the same manner that she had at the beginning, voice shaky, far away. "You see, I- I… I stitched her back together, hoping that her gift would… heal her, but it didn't. Then you were stolen from me - and I ceased to be living. I experimented on myself, injecting serums and chemicals, for I had to be stronger if I wanted to find you, to save you, but I never could." Their eyes met one another's. "My _heart_ has remained beating for vengeance. I have never forgotten what was done to your mother, to _you,_ and to me. When I learned that you were working with the same people who _stole_ you from me, I allied with the man who stole your mother's life. All so that it would lead to this moment. To your destiny."

"There you _go _again," she whispered. "What _destiny?_ You're not making any sense."

"Soon, it will. This time, things will be different." Her father looked so desperate that it brought tears to her eyes. "Your mother may be gone, bu- but we can still be a family."

"How can you say that when you're working with _Whitehall_?"

Her father inhaled slowly. "I allied with Whitehall over our shared hatred for S.H.I.E.L.D. and Phil Coulson, for it was my best opportunity to result in our reunion. What Whitehall failed to realize is that all alliances united by hatred are doomed. He doesn't matter anymore; the alliance is _over_. He's served his purpose."

Skye crossed her arms over her stomach, speechless.

"One day, you'll understand," her father swore. "I had to make a choice, and while it threatened to tear me apart, I did it so that I could see you again. Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D., Whitehall, Coulson, they're all the enemy. Your destiny will soon- "

"Stop it with the destiny stuff!" she snapped, hands shaking, and she gripped her thighs, desperately wishing that Grant had never left. "I don't want my mother's gift or anything. I don't _want_ it."

Her father's face softened, a glimpse of humanity briefly appearing. "My precious Daisy, oftentimes, the greatest gifts are the ones we never ask for. I never asked to meet your mother, nor to have her steal my heart with a single smile. You were our unplanned miracle, but you were the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I understand that you're overwhelmed, confused, but there will be plenty of time for questions. It will be okay, I prom- "

"Jus- just _stop,_" she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. "I _can't._"

Skye heard her father's footsteps approaching and registered the weight of his body next to her on the couch. "You can and you will, but none of it matters right now. What matters is _us._ Just sit here with me. _Please._ I know you can go find your Grant, and I won't stop you, but… I'd really like to just sit here with you. We don't have to talk anymore."

She stayed on the couch.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant wandered the base, but no matter what he did, he continued to worry about Skye, about what was happening between father and daughter. Skye's father was fascinating, and while he better understood how such a small man could have such a blood-soaked reputation, he was more aware than anyone that there were always things hidden, concealed beneath the surface. He had honestly been expecting a Goliath-like figure, but Mr. Zabo was unassuming. It actually made Grant respect him more; he used his modest figure to his advantage.

The unnatural strength provided some answers but not all of them. Was he also a quick healer? Was that how he was able to survive and butcher S.H.I.E.L.D. teams? Did he have something similar to Specialist training? Why did he have that strength? Was he an alien? Maybe an Asgardian or something? Or was he an inferior Super-Soldier?

It had been simple to provoke him, and he definitely understood why Bakshi feared him, called him unhinged. There was a lurking madness in Skye's father, but it was something that could be used against Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. if directed correctly. Together, they could unleash incredible damage - if he ever got his flames back, if he could get them back.

But did he even want that anymore? After everything Zenfield revealed, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson seemed almost… insignificant. Forgettable. When Skye had asked him after sex if he had plans, it hadn't even occurred to him to remember his sworn oath to avenge John by destroying S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson. Skye had made him forget, something that he wasn't mad about.

Deep down, did he still want to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D., and more importantly, Coulson?

"_You do want it,"_ John hissed out. _"How else are you gonna avenge me?"_

But what about Skye? They had reached a point where she completely trusted him; her love since Zenfield had been his anchor in the midst of all of the crashing seas that were those horrible truths. But if he went after S.H.I.E.L.D., who she still viewed as family, what would be the result?

She would never trust him again.

Would it be worth it?

Grant didn't know. All he knew was that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson had murdered John and imprisoned him for months, but Skye's belief in him had opened up possibilities that he had dared never to imagine.

"_Stop being such a pussy,"_ John barked out. _"Stop being weak! Be a man! Avenge me. You couldn't save me as you promised, but you can damn well avenge me!"_

He hissed through his teeth, ignoring John, focusing back on Skye. While her father had confirmed that he wouldn't ever let something happen to his daughter, he was still worried.

Skye had been a lot more nervous about the meeting than she had ever said aloud, but the way she had clutched at him, burying her face into his neck, legs wrapped around his own, after having sex notified him more than her words could anyway. While she had briefly drowned out the echoes of everything that Dr. Zenfield had revealed, he had done the same for her worries about meeting her father - it had been perfect.

"_Look who it is,"_ John groaned out. _"Why don't you just kill him?"_

As Bakshi approached, Grant really considered it, but once again, quelled the urge. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Mr. Whitehall has requested your presence," Bakshi replied. "He wishes to speak about Dr. Zenfield."

Grant nodded slowly, knowing it would look suspicious if he refused. Plus, Skye probably wanted more time with her father. "That was quick. Lead the way."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Whitehall smiled from behind his desk as Grant entered, immediately on guard because there were eight highly-trained Agents in the room; he could tell just by looking at them that they were skilled, but he couldn't tell what their purpose for being in the room is. Ultimately, it didn't matter. No man would ever be a match for him; no eyes, no throat, no groin safe from a vicious assault, swift and agonizing.

"_Check their positions, their weapons,"_ John ordered._ "How vigilant are they? If things go to hell, who's your first target?"_

"Wanted me to meet some of your Agents?" he asked, stepping towards the couch, analyzing everything and everyone.

"I see you met Mr. Zabo." Whitehall stared at him, an eerie smile on his lips.

"I did." He sat down on the couch that he had sat in only an hour ago. "He's a very… unique man."

"Indeed… Where is your siren? Did you leave her with Mr. Zabo?"

"Yes," he answered calmly. "She's fascinated by his information about the Obelisk. She stayed with him to listen about it."

Whitehall's eyes gleamed. "I'm sure she is. Would you like to hear what they're saying?"

"_You dumb motherfucker!" _John immediately roared. _"Get out of there!"_

Grant realized how played he had just been as foreboding hissed in his ears; he had been a fool! He had assumed when he shouldn't have! Underestimated Whitehall and overestimated Skye's father's ability to look and destroy any bugs and cameras in that room. Been too concerned about Skye to properly check that room.

Never rely on others - only yourself!

He remained in his seat. "Since you're an eavesdropper, are you a peeping Tom, too?"

"I have witnessed Mr. Zabo's unnatural strength." Whitehall turned the computer screen towards him and he watched, wary, as the scene of him easily catching Skye's father's fist and declaring that he was a Super-Soldier played out. "Which is why this was so surprising. You spoke with Dr. Zenfield, didn't you?"

"_The one on your right,"_ John hissed out urgently. _"He's the weak link. Go for him."_

Grant didn't act yet, but he knew that he had to time it perfectly. "No. That was a bluff. I'm just deceptively strong. Mr. Zabo isn't as strong as you think he is."

"So many lies… Does that mean you lied about your hatred for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Whitehall leaned forward, eyes cold. "What about your whore?"

Whitehall was a dead man.

"I hate S.H.I.E.L.D. more than almost anything. _That_ you can believe."

Whitehall hummed. "It's too bad that I don't. Agents!"

All of the Agents pointed their guns at him and he tensed. Why had he been such a fool? He should have never sat down on the couch.

"_You dumb son of a bitch!"_ John screamed. _"I told you! You shouldn't have been thinkin' with your dick!"_

Grant surged to the right, diving and then spinning out of the way. Moving as fast as he could - and he noticed that he was significantly faster than the other Agents - he jumped to his feet and took control of one of the Agents, crushing the hands holding the gun, taking the weapon as his own.

He immediately realized his mistake.

The gun was too light - without bullets. Based on how no one had shot him, all the other guns were bullet-less. It had been a pretense, a charade, a way to lure him into reacting with deadly instincts, fueled by his Super-Soldier abilities, and he had walked right into it.

Fuck.

"_We're fucked,"_ John observed softly, mournfully. _"Whitehall's a lot smarter than we gave him credit for."_

"Quite a demonstration, Grant Ward," Whitehall observed, staring at him. "You are exceptional, clearly a Super-Soldier despite your prior denial."

"And you're a dead man," he snarled, throwing the Agent in his grip across the room and swiftly pulling out his pistol, aimed directly for Whitehall's brain. "You may be immortal, but you're not _invulnerable_."

Whitehall raised his eyebrows, unsurprised and unafraid. "If you kill me, your whore will be killed. Look at the cameras. There's a team of Agents for her and her father, prepared to terminate. They will be alerted and ordered to kill them before you can rescue her. Try to leave to save her without harming me or any of my men, my response will be the same."

Grant looked and felt all control of the situation vanish when he saw the squad of Agents outside of the room where he had left Skye with her father.

"_I told you so. You dumb motherfucker."_

He threw the gun away in defeat. "What do you want?"

"To learn exactly what you know." Whitehall gestured for him to retake his seat. "I believe now is the best time to disclose everything."

Grant clenched his jaw and sat back down, preparing himself for another round of unholy truths.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Soldier remained silent as Wanda and Pietro murmured on the couch. He sat at the kitchen table, motionless, waiting for the past to converge with the present.

Upon realizing that Natalia had transferred all of the intelligence files of both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra - _one and the same_ \- onto the internet, allowing the ignorant public to peruse them as they wished before most were recovered and stored into secure, private databases, he felt proud of the student, the lover he had trained. Of course, the realization that Natalia had defected from The Red Room and Russia to work for the very intelligence organization that she had always been taught to despise made him feel even prouder. The fact that she had, in a twisted way, been working for Hydra didn't matter. She had managed to slip away into a better life, something they had both dreamed of together. It was his failure to ensure that their dream became a reality.

He didn't know if it was his own pride or James'; two men inhabited one body and they fought for dominance in a symbiotic relationship. The Soldier won most of the time but always, James survived continued to object and demand to be heard. Yet, to destroy Hydra, as was the goal of both, James must remain subjugated in their shared psyche; only The Soldier, the paramount predator born of agony and rage could destroy Hydra, not James.

While James was a killer, The Soldier could act as the monster James could not.

The fact that Natalia had been near him for years, but concealed away by Pierce - _the sadist! _\- enraged him. Yet, according to what he had learned, she killed Pierce, something for which he loved her all the more.

_She is a distraction,_ The Soldier declared into their shared psyche. _We do not need her; we need nothing. The twins were a bounty we did not anticipate, but one of which we will take advantage. The Widow's involvement is unnecessary. We exceed her greatest output by a wide margin. We are surgical where others are careless. In this, The Widow might become careless. Her emotional connection to us might ruin everything._

_Shut up!_ James countered, the force behind his words ringing in their mind. _Unlike us, she's been awake the entire time. She'll know more than we do. We need her help._

_We are more efficient than she could ever be,_ The Soldier intoned. _We are superior. No one is better._

_Except, apparently, my children!_ James snapped, seizing control. _Get away from me, Soldier!_

James inhaled deeply, observing the world through his own eyes instead of The Soldier's, and surprisingly, Wanda had learned her lesson to never touch his mind; she was unaware of the switch.

Looking around Natalia's apartment, memories flashed in his mind. Out of everything that he remembered, Natalia was the lone good thing, the purest beacon that inspired his hope. His memories of Steve were different; the situations were different.

The memories of Bucky Barnes were of another life, a different man. James was forged in the fires of torture and pain before The Soldier took over. But James survived; he refused to be extinguished. He swore to survive - and survive he did. Always loitering in The Soldier's consciousness, enduring the agony of The Chair, forever dormant until Natalia awakened him in The Red Room.

She had been through the fires with him, and she had soothed his deepest scars, bringing him peace when he thought that there was none. She was his salvation, his refuge - and he knew that he had been hers. They had found each other despite Hydra and The Red Room dictating their entire lives.

James suddenly heard light footsteps approaching the apartment and looked at Wanda and Pietro. "Quiet. Sit on the couch where she can see you. Don't try anything."

Before either could respond, the door to the apartment opened, and based on the sudden pause before the door was calmly closed, James knew Natalia's instincts were as sharp as ever.

The sound of Natalia's footsteps, breathing, and heartbeat were inaudible to anyone but him, and he soundlessly stood from the chair, approaching the corner of the refrigerator, concealing himself in the shadows of darkness - a familiar, comfortable position.

Without warning, bolts of jagged lightning streaked down, burning, searing into James' head, numbing the mind of The Soldier. For as Natalia entered his vision, he almost gasped; he was mesmerized by a ghost, a lovely apparition from years ago - the only good thing in his life. While she clearly wore a blonde wig, the face was the same, so sensual and soft-featured, and he intimately knew her body underneath those clothes, under the weapons he knew were adorning her sides beneath the jacket; her full, swollen breasts pressed the fabric of the jacket, and it was him who had taught her how to manipulate the visual. By drawing attention to her large breasts, one was distracted to the weapons beneath, the imminent death about to be spread.

It was incredible. In Natalia was the strength of James and The Soldier, for he - they - had trained her, taught her how to be strong, to survive. Even the guarded, feline-like walk, the rigidity of her arms as she aimed her pistol at Wanda and Pietro, attesting to her great proficiency in the deadly arts because of him - them. All he could see was himself in her; everything she was, he - they - gave her. He was looking at a reflection of himself, the perfect woman. The only one who would ever understand and accept his besmirched legacy of death.

Natalia hadn't registered his presence, focused on Wanda and Pietro,

_Age has made her careless,_ The Soldier observed. _Why do you persist in demanding she be part of this?_

"Who are you?" Natalia demanded to the twins. "How many others are there?"

James mentally growled. _It's beyond you. It's a human element that you can't understand. _

_Human elements guarantee death,_ The Soldier intoned._ They are for fools. _

Wanda held her hands in front of her towards Natalia as she remained on the couch, signaling that she wasn't going to do anything; there were no signs of a red mist. "We're not here because of you."

_Our vengeance will be done sooner or later,_ he snapped. _I want peace. She is my peace._

_There is no peace!_ The Soldier roared, rage flashing through their shared mind._ There can be no peace at all. Not ever._

_Shut up!_

"Not here because of me?" Natalia asked and James ignored The Soldier, focusing on her. "How many more are there? Is the building surrounded? Are you Hydra? Should I expect a death squad?"

Pietro tensed. "We're not _them._"

"Why would I believe you?"

Wanda placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "We're not Hydra; we've had enough of them. We _hate_ them."

Natalia didn't lower the gun; if anything, her grip tightened. "You haven't answered my question. Who are you? Why are you here?"

"We know who you are- "

"Then I guess I don't need this." In a smooth movement, she ripped off the blonde wig and the flaming red hair was vivid, scorching his eyes, causing him to gasp.

Natalia, at the sound, whirled around but he was even faster, reacting on deadly instincts; he dashed forward in the blink of an eye and immediately caught the gun aimed at him, crushing it in his hand.

She didn't react further, staring up at him with wide green eyes, stunned.

"We're here because we found someone who hates Hydra more than anyone," Wanda said, coming near them. "_Him_. I saw it."

The Soldier was nowhere to be heard and James let go of the mangled gun in his grip, backing away slightly. "It's good to see you, Natalia."

"You found me," she murmured stiffly, dropping the mangled gun

"I've known where you were for months," he admitted. "It wasn't hard."

Natalia subtly repositioned herself, but James knew it was only so that she could observe the twins and him at the same time. "Who are they?"

"We have names," Pietro cut in, frowning.

"They were experimented on by Hydra," James said, holding Natalia's gaze. "They used the Asgardian Scepter."

Her brilliant eyes closed. "Of course. Hydra stole it."

"Yes. But it's now out of their reach."

Natalia's eyes reopened. "You took it?"

"And hid it. Only I know where it is."

Pietro crossed his arms. "I don't understand why- "

The Soldier's presence was sudden and consuming. "I will not explain it to you. Your sister understands well enough without touching my mind."

Natalia stared at Wanda, considering. "You can…?"

"Read your thoughts, yes," the girl answered. "I try not to, but… some are always there."

"I see," Natalia said, making no effort to conceal her displeasure, the agitation she felt.

James stared at her, yearning pounding at him. "You're more beautiful than I remember."

He noticed the subtle tightness of her posture. "When you have that serum, Father Time is most kind regarding beauty," she quipped flatly, but her eyes drifted over him, focusing on the communist star on his bionic arm for a moment. "You don't look bad yourself. The beard's new."

"I've stayed away from you, trying to find an excuse to talk to you, to see you. Now I have one. I need your help."

Natalia was unblinking. "What does _The Winter Soldier_ need help with?"

James closed his eyes. "I have children."

Silence.

When he opened his lids, Natalia blinked at him; he couldn't decipher her expression. "_Children? _From… when before you were The Soldier?"

He frowned. "No. They're in my file; so are you." Memories of how the conception of his children came to be flashed in his mind; he felt nauseous, violated, for he remembered the woman who had borne his children. She was as much a bitch as he could imagine, but he allowed none of his inward dismay shown on his face. "You… don't remember?"

Natalia looked away from him and when he noticed that Wanda stared at her in sympathy, James glared, feeling The Soldier slowly return. "_Leave._ Go across the street to the cafe. Wait there."

Wanda didn't look surprised. "I thought you'd say that. May I say something very quickly?"

"_Very_ quickly," he ordered.

"She's thinking about all the ways to escape."

"Stay out of my mind," Natalia said, the promise of agony shining in her brilliant green eyes. "Because you know what I'll do to you based on what I'm thinking right now."

Wanda swallowed. "I understand."

"Make sure you never misunderstand."

Pietro frowned and opened his mouth, but Wanda elbowed him, a request for silence, and they walked out of the apartment.

James was left alone with Natalia for the first time in decades.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured.

Natalia smiled but it wasn't her true smile; he hated it. "Why should I trust you? In our last two encounters, you _shot_ me. If I didn't know that you wouldn't feel it, I would repay the favor_._"

James could do nothing but stare at her, ashamed and sorrowful. "I'm sorry."

"The only reason I haven't demanded you leave is the fact that you did shoot me. You didn't kill me when you easily could have. It gave me hope."

The memories of having her in his crosshairs assaulted him, and he remembered roaring at The Soldier, demanding that he not harm Natalia. It had been an overwhelming struggle, a vie for dominance, but while James had lost, he had kept Natalia alive.

"The Soldier wanted to eliminate you," he whispered. "I tried to stop him, and maybe I did, but he still shot you. I'm sorry."

Natalia nodded, face minutely softening. "I hear James. The Soldier would never apologize."

"No, he wouldn't."

"I never pictured you taking in strays. It's surprising."

James accepted the change in the topic. "Hydra will come for them. They can't protect themselves. I'm teaching them control."

"Like you did me?"

"Yes."

"You're the best teacher they could ever have. They don't know how lucky they are that you saved them." Natalia stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "The girl can… read minds, but what can the boy do?"

"Run fast. Once trained, he'll be faster than me."

Natalia's brow rose in interest. "Fast metabolism?"

"He eats as much as I do. But I'm not here about the twins."

"Yes. Your _children._ What about them?"

"What do you remember, Natalia?"

"Some things are missing," she said shortly. "What about you?"

"_Everything._ I remember all of it." His fists clenched, inward agony sparking, enlarging. "But even though I remember, there are some things that I don't _understand_. There's a difference."

"I know," she whispered and he took strength from it. "I remember things that I don't understand, too."

"I remember _us._" He approached her; she didn't step away. "I wanted to leave with you… I _tried_ to… but they forced us apart, made me _forget._ Put me in that fucking chair."

Natalia's body was tight, eyes blazing with tension. "I remember."

"Do you understand it?" he asked softly, feeling the full depths of all the pain and rage and sadness his memories inspired. "They said it was because you 'corrupted' me, made me too human because I nearly destroyed them. I was so close, but… Yelena ruined everything. She betrayed us, _doomed_ us." The knot in his chest became unbearable and he squeezed his fingers into fists. "I'm _sorry,_ Natalia. I failed. I failed you. Failed us."

"_Stop,_" she ordered quietly but there was a desperation in her green eyes. "You said children. _What_ children? Did… did they breed us?"

James remembered his file. "They wanted to, but… they couldn't."

"Because I'm sterilized," she finished flatly.

"They used someone else. A Hydra scientist who… I remember her. She was like everyone else: _Heartless._"

Natalia's lips thinned. "Your children, are they like you? Super-Soldiers?"

"They have powers." James' fists clenched, both metal and flesh, and he backed away, pacing in front of her; it felt hauntingly familiar. "Based on what my file said and what I remember, my… children are genetic experiments. They're Super-Soldiers but… they also have powers."

Natalia laughed but there was nothing amusing in it. "Of course. Their depravity knows no bounds. I'm not surprised."

"I wish I was."

"Do you want to… see them? Is that it? You want to meet your children who would probably kill you?"

"No one can kill me. I am superior."

"I hear The Soldier."

James reasserted himself. "But he's _right._ They wouldn't be able to kill me before The Soldier takes over and kills them in turn. Maybe there's hope for them, for my children. Maybe I can get them out of Hydra if I find them."

Natalia blinked, something crossing her face. "I'm sorry. I never knew about your children. If I did, I would have…"

"Would have what?"

"I would have rescued them. Gotten them away from Hydra and The Red Room. But I didn't." He noticed that her hands twitched, a subtle shaking appearing before she controlled it. "I failed. All I do is fail. I tried to look for you after The Red Room was disbanded, but I failed. You had _vanished._ They made sure of it. I failed to know about Hydra. I failed to know about your children, and they were forced to be weapons, weren't they? Like us?"

"That's why I'm here."

"Then why come to me now? Why not Steve?" she demanded. "I know you remember him. You must realize that he's been going out of his mind looking for you. He'd be a better help than me."

"I'm not the man Steve knew." James shook his head, his mane of dark locks rippling with aggressive movement, memories assaulting him. The doubts and anger he felt. "He won't understand. He's not like me. He's not like _us,_ Natalia."

"True, but I don't think you're giving him enough credit. I think he can learn to understand."

"I knew Steve for over twenty years. I know him."

"Do you?" she challenged, meeting his gaze. "You've changed, yes, but so has he. He's not the Steve Rogers you knew. You're both different, James. And you didn't see him when he realized what happened to you. I _did._"

James felt regret. "He blames himself?"

"_Yes,_ he does. He blames himself for everything that happened to you, how things turned out." Natalia drew in a ragged breath, green eyes wounded and in pain. "_I _blame myself for how things turned out. You said you failed to… run away with me, but it was _me_ who trusted Yelena and convinced you that it would all work out."

"I couldn't kill either of you," James whispered, and he was staring directly at the scars he knew were on her body beneath her clothes, the ones he had given her. "My mind was on fire, the compulsion to kill both of you so… It _burned,_ Natalia, but I didn't do it even though I wanted to, needed to. Something stopped The Soldier - something_ human._"

"_You_ stopped The Soldier, James. Otherwise, Steve and I would be dead. You clawed at the predator and distracted him."

"Even on that Helicarrier, I could have killed him so many times," he murmured in a daze. "It would have been so easy. Effortless. But him in that damned uniform, it sparked something. An awareness. The Chair, for some reason, didn't do its job, and I had that… awareness because of that uniform. That bastard knew it, too; he did it on purpose. I know he did."

"He did," she agreed softly. "He was going to get you back or die trying, James. That's how he still feels. He's looking for you."

"I _know._ All of Hydra is looking for me, every intelligence agency in the world, and so many mercenaries, but among all of them, Steve is there." James barked out a laugh, but he wasn't amused. "That stubborn punk. Even when I… smashed his face in, crushing the bones with my fists, he just… he kept _talking,_" he breathed out, raw emotions swelling inside, overwhelming him. Natalia stepped towards him, face soft, angelic-like; she was his reprieve. "He wouldn't fight back. The only time in his life he chooses not to fight back, and I… I made it look like Death raped him."

Natalia grabbed his shaking hand, voice soft. "But you pulled him out of that river. In the end, you saved his life. You didn't kill him when you easily could have. So, are you avoiding Steve because you fear he won't understand everything that's happened, or because you fear his reaction? I think it's both."

"I fear nothing."

"Oh, I hear The Soldier again."

James grit his teeth. "I don't want to disappoint him."

Natalia raised a brow. "But you were willing to come to me? What if I'm disappointed in you?"

"You're not because you _understand._ I don't know if Steve will."

"Then give him a chance to. I didn't think that he had what it took to deal with Hydra during Project Insight, but he surprised me. I think he can surprise you, too."

"Nothing surprises me."

She stared at him pointedly. "You're not who I'm talking to, Soldier."

James forced The Soldier out. _Get away!_

_You are weakening,_ The Soldier informed. _This weakness can kill us. Desist!_

_Don't you learn? Shut up!_ James retorted, feeling The Soldier slip away. _I can handle this. I don't need you right now!_

"Sorry," he said softly.

"I understand, and maybe Steve won't understand immediately," Natalia said evenly. "You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who would immediately, but I think if we explain it to him and answer his questions, he can understand."

James stared down at her, hope blossoming in his shriveled heart. "We?"

"We were always a duo and we were the deadliest duo in history. Steve won't stand a chance."

"Will you help me find my children?"

"Yes. What can you tell me about them?"

James recalled everything his file said. "There were four, but only two are still alive. Three sons and one daughter. The daughter was the eldest, and she was followed by two more births. The last birth was twin boys, and they're both dead. One drowned to death as a child and it sounded like he was similar to Steve before the serum: Frail."

"I'm sorry. What about your… other sons?"

"One is a Senator, and the other vanished fifteen years ago; the file said he was dead."

"And your daughter?"

"I don't know. All I know is she's alive, but I don't know where she is. I'm hoping her… brother will know."

"It will be harder to get a Senator, especially one who, most likely, will want to kill you. Who is he?"

"Christian Ward."

Natalia's eyes widened. "_Ward?_ Are you sure?"

James frowned. "Yes. Do you know him?"

She sucked in a breath. "Of course. I should've seen it. I should've seen a lot of things. Senator Christian Ward was murdered several weeks ago by his brother, Grant."

"_No._ The file said- "

"The file was wrong about that, James. Grant Ward worked for Hydra while in S.H.I.E.L.D., and I saw him a few times. He looks like you - a lot like you, actually. It's why I avoided him. But he's _good,_ and I heard whispers that he might be better than me. If he is your son, then he is better than me; knowing he comes from _you_ makes him so much more dangerous than I ever thought he was."

He digested all of that, inward pain all-too-familiar. "Two of my children are still dead. One of my sons murdered his brother. Look what Hydra _does._ Look what they beget. I'm going to kill them all, and nothing will stop me."

_Nothing will stop me,_ The Soldier corrected. _I will destroy and then we will be free. It is all that matters._

"Maybe it's time I clean out the red in my ledger with a different red. The blood of the guilty instead of the innocent."

"Do you know where… Grant is?"

"Manhunts have been searching for him, but they've found nothing. As I said, he's _good,_ James. Not like you, but he's more capable than just about anyone. Like father, like son."

He clenched his jaw. "Then he's back in Hydra, and… he's one of the Heads. That's what Von Strucker said."

"Wolfgang von Strucker? You killed him?"

"Yes. If I'm going to… get Grant, I think I'm going to need… help. There's a reason why I've been focusing on European and Asian Hydra bases and Agents."

"You'll need Steve," Natalia concluded. "Two Super-Soldiers, your strays, and I should be more than enough. Not to mention Wilson."

James forced away his nervousness about seeing Steve again. "Destroying Hydra and getting my children is all that matters. Hydra will _burn._" His words reminded him of something mentioned in his file. "Grant is… pyrokinetic."

Natalia raised her brows. "The Grant Ward I knew was never fire-proof."

"Christian's powers were a form of telepathy; he could control anyone by speaking. My file said that Christian made Grant forget about his powers. Most of who he was. I need to… fix it."

"Plans are fragile, James. _You_ taught me that, but you are willing to potentially risk everything, go into the heart of Hydra it sounds like, for your son. Why? You don't know how Grant will react to you. He may attack you. He killed his brother. He may try to kill his father."

"I know," he whispered. "But it's a human element that The Soldier will never understand. Just like he doesn't understand you; he sees you as a target, a weakness, something to exploit."

"How charming," she said dryly. "I know The Soldier, James. I am well aware of what he thinks about me. But I want to know what _you_ think. Explain the human element."

James clenched his jaw and despite himself, The Soldier roaring in his mind, he was honest. "If I help my son, maybe I can redeem myself that way, too. Everything I've done through the decades for Hydra, for The Red Room, it was all _me._ I can blame it on The Soldier, but The Soldier's part of me, which makes him me. Maybe I can regain the family I never knew I made. Even if Grant hates me, wants to kill me, it doesn't matter. I need to find him, confront him. You should understand."

Natalia's gaze softened. "I _do_, but I wanted - maybe needed - to hear you say it. And, if I'm not mistaken, helping Grant will be another way you can triumph over Hydra, the way they controlled your life. You were never to know about Grant or your other children, but if you find him, save him from whatever Hydra has planned for him, you gain victory. In a way, you'd negate everything that happened."

He stared at her. "You do understand. You're the only one who does."

"Charmer. I think I hear Bucky Barnes. I can count the number of times on my hand Steve ever talked about Bucky before Project Insight and still have fingers left, but it was always about how good Bucky was with women."

James nodded. "Maybe. But Bucky's been dead for seventy years; he's not coming back. I'm not _him._ To survive, Bucky had to die and James and later The Soldier took his place."

"I know, and I think Steve will eventually know that, too."

"Experience has taught me that foresight is foolish."

"But hope isn't. You're listening too much to The Soldier. What does The Soldier know about humanity except how to destroy, expose, infiltrate, and manipulate?"

"Maybe. I don't know anymore. Hope isn't how I broke free. It's not how I'm avenging everything done to me, to us."

"Give it time. It took me a long time for me to feel hope again, but feeling hope proves you're human. Not a robot or weapon. Hope is a necessary, fundamental trait to feeling human, to not be what Hydra and The Red Room made us."

James considered her. "Maybe once I destroy Hydra, I'll be able to have hope. It's been a long time since I've had hope. _Decades._"

"We're both old, James," Natalia murmured. "And if I feel this way, I can't imagine how you feel."

"What do you feel?"

"While our bodies may not age, our minds do; they grow wiser." Natalia slowly sat on her couch and James sat in the chair perpendicular to her position. "I mean, I still look the same, but I don't _feel_ the same."

"Mentally."

"Yes. Visually, I'm still that young woman, the postadolescent woman who sees herself doing the things that I want to. I'm still young, but only on the outside. The motor controls are there and they always will be, just like the strength of will; I'm forever master of my body. But my mind… it's slowly started to reject the necessity to make immediate decisions - both intellectually and physically. In short, I don't care as much as I used to. Not like I did in The Red Room. Not when I was _young._"

"I think you just revealed that you couldn't kill me - if it's even possible."

Natalia's lips curled. "Don't count on it, James."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Fascinating," Whitehall commented after Grant finished. "You know much, but not everything. Your mother was brilliant and everything Hydra represents, she embodied beautifully," the voice was full of eerie admiration. Grant remained seated, forced to listen and interact, communicate, or Skye would be killed. "Of course, I was never part of your project. It would have been a great joy and honor to be part of it, but S.H.I.E.L.D. took that from me when they imprisoned me. By the time I was released and regained my life through… someone special, you were already a child, progressing as you were designed. Everything was going according to plan, but then you disappeared from the Juvenile Detention Center, in which you were to learn discipline and respect."

"_You're welcome, son,"_ John said. _"Without me, you'd have been like your old man."_

Grant nodded his head. "John got me out of juvie."

"Yes, and five years later, a new Grant Ward appeared under Garrett's endorsement," Whitehall said distastefully. "I should have seen it, we all should have, but we were outwitted by a mere soldier."

"You're not as smart as you think you are. John stole me right out from under your fucking noses."

"_I saved you."_

"Garrett stole you when he should have had no knowledge of who you were."

Grant leaned forward, for it was something he had been wondering. He might as well make the most of the situation. "Then how did he know who and… what I was?"

Whitehall's eerie eyes closed briefly, a spark of outrage. "I believe it was Pierce. Garrett and Pierce were close. While Fury was Garrett's S.O., Pierce was the one who saved him, bringing him to Hydra's attention. Because they were close, Garrett learned many things he never should have. Including who you were. Pierce could never keep his mouth shut; he loved to talk. It must be also how Garrett knew about the Super-Soldier repressor shots."

"No wonder he and John were close," he said idly, digesting everything that Whitehall just revealed.

"_It makes sense,"_ John commented. _"I used to talk to Pierce quite a bit, remember? He put me into the Deathlok Program, and I made sure I was close to him. He's how I got to become a Head; he recommended me."_

"Yes. After your return, everyone of importance in Hydra knew of you; you were the personal protege of one of our highest members, a man for whom Pierce had much regard and respect, but we never knew if you were _our _Grant Ward." A flash of bitterness crossed those usually impassive features and Grant was swept away by more truths. "You showed no signs of enhanced strength or healing, and while you bore the resemblance to The Soldier, it wasn't enough. All the blood work was negative. We believed that Garrett had stolen the identity of the missing Grant Ward and shaped a protege into it like a glove, possibly manipulating the flesh through surgery to make this man look like our Grant Ward."

Silence. All of the Agents were expressionless and he should have realized sooner that they were brainwashed under the Faustus Method.

"Now _what?"_ he demanded. "You kill me?"

Whitehall's eyebrows rose. "_Kill_ you? Absolutely not. You are the key to my plans, to _Hydra's_ plans. You may also be the only one who can stop your father."

"_You hear that?"_ John asked. _"You're gonna be two-for-two in killing both your fathers."_

"You have returned to Hydra, your birthplace. We are your creator, and now, you will do for what you were destined."

"Careful," he chided dangerously. "Destinies are rarely what you expect."

Whitehall smiled thinly. "I was thrilled when you agreed to come to me, but when you brought _her,_ your whore, all of my deepest yearnings were answered. You are Hydra's greatest gift, Grant Ward, but I know of your love for that whore you believe to be a human."

Grant sat, considering. Skye wasn't human? She was an… alien?

It wasn't a grand revelation that shocked him to his core, but even though he had known that it was somehow a possibility based on her parents, he still felt surprised, but he still had a role to play - he would stop falling into traps!

"_That explains how the fuck she got better after the GH-325,"_ John suddenly said.

Grant snorted, trying to buy time to figure out what to do, how to get out of the situation. "I don't believe you."

"But the evidence is before you," Whitehall countered, eyes predatory. "Your S.H.I.E.L.D. whore isn't human. Her mother wasn't, either, and it was one of the reasons I killed her. I took everything from her mother; if you look at my cellular structure, it isn't human."

"_I don't think Whitehall was ever really human in the first place," _John pointed out. _"Those eyes, the only ones similar that I've seen are flowers'. Maybe she ain't human, either. Wouldn't surprise me."_

"You see, your whore is part of an invasive species that threatens the entire natural order, the new world in which you will help Hydra herald." An unholy light entered Whitehall's eerie eyes. "Once I discover what makes your whore tick, you will be the fire that consumes the invasive species."

"The hell I will," he said, chuckling, gesturing to the emotionless Agents. "The Faustus Method doesn't work on me like it does them. John made sure I would never be affected by it; he trained me. No… I'm going to kill you."

Whitehall sighed. "I thought you might say that. Agent Morton, do it."

Grant swiveled to his left and saw a circular device held in Agent Morton's hand.

"_What the fuck is that?"_ John wondered. _"It looks like a- "_

He cried out in pain as an unholy _screeching_ sound assaulted him. It was a sonic device, sounding like thunder and gunshots meeting together in an unholy clap in his ears, disorienting his senses. Grant's vision wavered as he fell out of the couch to his knees, senses overwhelmed.

Thankfully, it stopped but before he could do anything else as he was still gathering his bearings, Whitehall kneeled in front of him, abruptly injecting a needle into his neck. The liquid was expunged and he was too jarred to properly react.

"Your mother's repression serum will make you comply," Whitehall murmured, smiling, and while he could barely hear him, he understood. "Your whore will, too."

Grant blinked back his pain, the utter feeling of weakness that seemed to envelop him; he felt human, mortal.

"You motherfucking _bastard,_" he snarled, glaring up at Whitehall. "I'm gonna rip out your spine."

"Whatever Oedipal fixations I have are not your concern."

"_Why the fuck didn't you listen to me?"_ John demanded. _"Look what happens when you don't listen, you dumb fuck! Now you have no advantage! You're weaker now than you've ever been!" _

"I'm going to get free and- "

"We contained your father for seventy years, and while you were designed to surpass everything of which he is capable, you haven't reached your potential. Not yet." Whitehall's eerie eyes gleamed. "You are no Winter Soldier."

"I'm a _Head_," he tried, thinking quickly. Although, he noticed that his thoughts seemed slower somehow. "This is how you treat fellow Heads? Is this the relationship between the Heads? If so, sooner or later, I'll be taking _your_ head."

"Like Mozart, who prospered under the guidance of his father, I will guide you into becoming Hydra's greatest Head."

"_Who's gonna save you, son? Your girl ain't, and I'm too dead. Is this where you kick the bucket? Will you be joining me in Hell momentarily?" _

He thought of Skye, of how he had failed to see the trap into which they had walked. While he had thought he was playing Whitehall, Whitehall had been playing him - and so easily!

Damn it!

"Maybe you did create me," he murmured, feeling whatever strength he had left in his body; it would be enough to get at Whitehall. "Maybe I'm everything you say, but you don't get to decide."

Grant lunged forward, hands extended like claws, diving into Whitehall, but before he could break Whitehall's neck, the butt of a gun smashed into the back of his skull.

His vision blackened, pain exploding through him - and he had forgotten how weak and slow it felt to be human instead of a Super-Soldier. The Agents began to viciously beat him, pummeling his human body until he shook with pain as blood was shed.

"Enough," Whitehall called out and Agents scooped Grant upward, and he was barely able to lift his head, but he glared at Whitehall.

"Go fuck yourself," he spat out, blood dripping past his lips. "Then, as John would say, go fuck your dead mother."

"_And then his dead sister if he had one!"_ John cried out. _"What's that shit called? Necrophilia, right?"_

Whitehall smiled thinly. "Fire is both the most destructive and purifying force in the universe. Out of the ashes of the destruction you will herald, a purified world order will arise to lead the human race. You are part of the cycle, Grant Ward. It's a cosmic cycle of creation and destruction. Not even the Tesseract would have shaped the new world, but you will. You will blacken and burn this world's atrocities to ash, unearthing the habitat of the invasive species, and then bringing them to me. You see, fire is perfect. _Essential._ Only through fire, only through you, can we achieve our greatness as a species. You will purify us; you are the key. You will be a composer of death for the greater order."

"Speak _English!"_ he spat, adrenaline pumping through him, but he was powerless to combat everyone in the room. "Or Mandarin or Russian or any language. Because I don't speak _bullshit!"_

"_Atta boy!"_

"I see Dr. Zenfield failed to mention that part," Whitehall mused. "Regardless, you will be fluent in my line of thinking, the concept of your destiny. This will be a partnership that will ensure Hydra's supremacy. You will comply, Grant Ward. While the Faustus Method won't work, there are… other methods. Your purpose as a Head has just begun. Your legacy will be greater than anyone's when all is finished and revealed; it will be for _all-time_."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"How can you _say _that?" Skye demanded, staring at her father. "I'm not like you. I'm not gonna go around and kill- "

"You don't want to avenge your mother?" her father's eyes sparked chaotically. "She wa- "

"I didn't know my mother! How can I avenge someone I never met?"

"Your mother _loved_ you- "

"I'm sure she did, but that doesn't change anything. I didn't _know_ her."

Her father's eyes filled with tears. "If only you did. She was so kind and warm; she made me feel welcome in a country that wasn't my own."

Skye swallowed. "I wish I remembered her."

"She'd be so _proud_ of you," her father whispered, staring at her. "Look at you. A grown, beautiful woman ready to achieve your destiny."

And just like that, whatever peace made was shattered.

"Why won't you _listen?"_ Skye demanded. "Don't you get it? I'm not doing it. This specialness you keep talking about, it's not _me. _I don't want it."

"Your Grant is a Super-Soldier, and you love him. If you accept that he's special, why can't you accept that you are?"

Skye stared back at him, trying to control her heartbeat. "_No_. You're not going to turn this around on me."

Her father's eyes widened, desperation blatant. "This is all about _you_, Daisy. Everything has led to this moment. You're more special than your Grant could ever be. Why won't you listen?"

"For all I know, you're _lying,_" she hissed out. "You keep saying you wouldn't ever lie to me, but I don't _trust _you. Why should I even believe that? 'Cause I know I'm not special. Maybe above-average, but that's _it._ I'm no genius. I'm not amazing like Grant or- "

"You must be awakened!"

"Awaken _what?_ A monster hiding deep inside?"

"Your _gift,_" her father corrected, voice rising; his manic eyes portrayed his desperate confusion. "You're not alone. There are others like you- "

Suddenly, the door opened and her father whirled around, teeth barred like a rabid dog, and Skye paled as Whitehall and a legion of guards entered the room.

"You know of the creatures' habitat?" Whitehall asked, staring at her father with cold eyes, but Skye didn't care about that. She was petrified, staring at the bloodied and beaten Grant thrown to the floor.

Horror raged inside and she dove for Grant, cradling his head in her lap, ignoring the blood - _his blood!_ \- staining her clothes. "Grant! Wha- _Grant!"_

He blearily blinked his swollen eyelids open and his gorgeous eyes teemed with rage and sorrow. "I'm _sorry,_" he whispered, blood collecting at his lips. "I was… tricked."

Immediately, Skye knew that she was trapped and that Grant wouldn't be able to get her out of Hydra. From the looks of it, Grant wasn't a Super-Soldier anymore. Did Whitehall have those Super-Soldier repressor shots? Was that what happened?

"Surround, Mr. Zabo," Whitehall ordered. "His ability to survive is impressive, but a fusillade of armor-piercing bullets at close range will kill him."

Her father's body shook, eyes bursting from their sockets with sheer hatred as the guards surrounded him, guns aimed for his skull. "If my daughter wasn't here- "

Whitehall interrupted lazily, "If your daughter wasn't here, we would still be playing our little game. We both had ulterior motives for our alliance. You thought I didn't remember, but I do. I know you. You could say I'm the reincarnation of your wife." The toothless smile elongated into something sinister. "I took all of her. I knew her intimately. I knew her body in ways you never did- "

Skye watched, horrified, as her father roared in fury and lunged forward, but collapsed to the floor when his body was riddled with bullets, the sounds exploding through the air. She stared at the blood leaking out of him, and his bright eyes met hers as he thrashed and cringed.

"I'm not going to kill you," Whitehall mused, standing over her father. "You have information I need, and I know it is such a cliché, but there are ways to force you to share your knowledge. We will make you _talk._ Your information about the Diviner is crucial. As well as the knowledge of the creatures' habitat. It will herald Grant Ward's- "

Grant groaned in her lap and he glared at Whitehall. "Like I said, not happening."

Whitehall turned to stare at Grant but then his gaze turned upon her, and Skye wished Grant hadn't spoken; those eyes, they were so terrible. "Yes, the whore. The moment I saw you, I _knew._"

"Knew _what?"_ she snapped, mind blazing with sheer panic. There was no escape. There were at least twenty guards and both Grant and her father were too beaten to do anything.

"That the daughter has come to give me whatever I could not acquire from the mother because, just like your mother, you are special. The resemblance between you and her is beyond striking, almost as if your mother's genes were all dominant, superior." Whitehall stepped closer and Skye stiffened, mentally trying to calculate if she could grab one of the guards' guns and kill Whitehall - _and she wouldn't have a problem killing him!_ \- and pull a Rambo by taking out everyone, but this wasn't the movies, and she could do nothing but listen to Whitehall. "Your mother was immortal, and her gift allowed her to last a week under my inquiries; she possessed a fire that I see in you."

Skye remembered Dr. Zenfield's words about the immortal woman - _her mother!_

"I knew she had a daughter, and I looked for little Daisy for decades," Whitehall continued, gaze enveloping Skye, and Grant remained quiet, listening; she hoped that he was trying to summon his flames or something. Skye could barely breathe, only stare. "Now that Grant Ward has returned to Hydra, it is perfect. Two special people who I have spent much time and resources looking for appear together - in love. It's tragic. Not even Goethe could have written it better."

Grant shifted and slowly propped himself up on his elbows, and then drew himself to his knees. "I don't have my flames. Christian took them away. You're not getting anything out of me."

Whitehall frowned. "Perhaps making you watch as I dissect your whore will entice your flames to return."

Skye paled but her father howled from his position on the floor, bleeding. "You touch her, I'll tear you limb-less! Her gift is dormant still! It's not unlocked yet. You wouldn't find anything!"

"Then you will provide the answers to unlocking her gift." Whitehall waved to several of the guards. "I fear Mr. Zabo is too unhinged to undergo the Faustus Method, but my inquiries will suffice. Take him to my lab."

Her father thrashed, but he was too weak, body too desecrated from the bullets as the guards lifted him up, locking his arms and legs in place, viciously twisting the limbs in unnatural ways. "I'll die before I tell you anything!"

"We shall test that belief," Whitehall murmured. "Among many others."

Skye tried to say something to her father, but she was deprived of whatever words she wanted to say because she didn't know. Instead, her father stared at Grant and something seemed to pass between them; then, her horrified gaze met her father's as they hauled him out of the room.

"Daisy, I love you." Her father tried to smile but looked more like a grimace. "Don't worry about me. I'll be alright."

Before Skye could retort, he was gone - and she had no idea if that would be the last time she ever saw him.

"You're a monster," she spat out, glaring at Whitehall's form, ignoring the very real danger that could befall her if Whitehall wished it. "I hope you have a brain aneurysm."

Whitehall turned back to look at her. "A subjective illustration. You may be special, but you are still a child. I will discover your gift, what makes you tick, and then you will share the fate of your mother. I wonder if you're immortal, as well."

"I should have blown your head off when I had the chance," Grant growled out, gingerly standing to his feet; all of the guards' guns were aimed directly at him. "I'll have the chance again, and I won't let it pass by."

"As I have told you once already, time will tell," Whitehall murmured. "And there is much time to discover. Not everything is ready, but it will all align. You will be the fire that cleanses the world of the invasive species to which your whore belongs, and I will learn more about these creatures from your whore via my inquiries."

Grant weakly hauled Skye to her feet, face twisted with blood and rage. "You fucking- "

"Being immortal, I can be patient. However long it takes, I won't mind."

Skye swallowed and looking at Whitehall, feeling the tremors rippling through Grant as his human body struggled against the beaten he had been subjected to, she desperately hoped that Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. had been somehow tracking Grant because they needed help to escape.

They needed all of the help.

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****Grant and Skye arrive at the Hydra base and meet with Whitehall. They learn of Von Strucker's disappearance and how all signs point to The Winter Soldier.**

****Skye finally meets her father, and it goes about as you'd expect. Her father's clearly crazy, which automatically makes her much less receptive to anything he'd have to say, which is why she rebels against receiving her gift.**

****Grant gets played by Whitehall. I mean, Whitehall is at least a century old so he has tricks up his sleeve. In Canon, they made him so harmless, a joke of a villain. The only thing that he had going for him was that he murdered Skye's mother but then that was rescinded when she appears later on. Plus, walking into a Hydra base and just expecting everything to go fine was the wrong strategy. Grant's arrogant and his arrogance bit him in the ass. Being a Super-Soldier certainly fueled that arrogance, but then Whitehall delivers the Super-Soldier repressor shot, so Grant's back to being human. For now. **

****The Soldier/James meets Natasha with the Maximoff twins for help. Yes, The Soldier's file detailed the existence of his children, so he wants to meet them, 'rescue' them from Hydra so they might be able to have a chance. It's also a selfish reason to help himself, a way he can potentially 'undo' some of what was done to him.**

****Skye, Skye's father, and Grant are all captured by Whitehall because they were never going to get out of there after Grant was given that repressor shot. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


	9. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**_** or any of the characters therein the **_**Marvel Cinematic Universe**_**.**

XxXxXxXxXxX

"The more time that passes, the more afraid I get," Skye whispered, next to him. "It's all I can think about."

Grant weakly raised his head, opening his eyes to the same sight he had seen for days as he slouched against the wall, preserving whatever strength he had left: The barren cell into which Whitehall had forced him and Skye. While he was still going to rip out Whitehall's spine when he got the chance, he was grateful that he was with Skye - why, he didn't know, but he feared the reason behind it.

"_You know what he's doing,"_ John goaded. _"He's makin' the bond between you and your girl that much deeper, stronger or whatever, forcing you two to face this isolation together so that when he begins to torture her, after gettin' the info from her old man about how to awaken her gift, your flames will appear. That's the game plan. It makes sense. It's all some psychological shit."_

Skye chuckled but there was no mirth. "I could use some charm, Grant. I need you to, I don't know, talk and distract me."

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, laying his head back against the wall. "That we're stuck here? That I fucked it all up because my head was so far up my own ass that all I could see was darkness instead of what was right in front of me?"

"_Told you. You were thinking with your dick, trying to get more pussy from your girl instead of using your brain. You should've listened to me, you dumb motherfucker!"_

"That your father is being tortured?" Grant continued, John's words not affecting him. "That every day, they come in and give me that fucking repressor shot, and I can't do a thing about it because they hold five guns to your head? That Whitehall played me like an instrument? You know, he keeps saying that I'll be like Beethoven and Mozart, all those composers, but clearly, he's the composer since he played me so easily. So artfully, you could say."

"_Stop!"_ Skye snapped, glaring at him, tears in her eyes. "You're not helping! Forget I asked."

Grant sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just angry."

"But is that all you feel? Just angry? Aren't you afraid?" Before he could answer, she scoffed, drawing away. "That's right, you're a Super-Soldier, the best of the best. You're not afraid of anything."

"_She's got you pegged, son."_

He looked at her, taking in her bloodshot and red-rimmed eyes, the utter exhaustion on her beautiful face, and a truth escaped his lips that he had been aware of since Dr. Zenfield. "I think I'm afraid of dying."

Her gaze snapped to meet his, shocked; he had her attention. "Wha- _what?"_

Feeling a calmness descend over him, Grant continued, "I mean, why else am I a survivor?"

"_What the fuck are you doing? This isn't what we do. We don't do this feelings shit."_

Skye slowly reached toward him. "So, you're afraid, too?"

Grant knew they were being monitored, watched, but he no longer cared. "I fear what Whitehall will do to you to make me comply. You're my weakness."

"_Damn right!"_

"You sure know how to flatter a girl," Skye quipped dryly, but he was relieved to see the shadows in her eyes retreat - however shortly. "I'm afraid of what he's doing to my father right now. What he's been doing to him for however long we've been stuck in this cell, which is four days, right?"

"Four days," he agreed. "It's how many times I've been given that shot."

"_And you're gonna stay trapped for a lot longer if you don't think of something!"_

"I don't want to die, either," she said softly. "I don't want to be Whitehall's guinea pig. I… I don't want to end up like my mother." Her watery eyes connected to his and she tried to smile. "Looks like we're both afraid of dying."

Grant achingly drew her into his side, refusing to wince when she made contact with his battered flesh, the bruises. "But there's one thing I fear more than dying."

"Which is what?"

"That I'm too good at surviving," he disclosed quietly. "Look at what I did to _Tommy._ If I'm such a good survivor that, instinctively, I saw my own brother, my _twin_ as a threat, that I was willing to deprive him of everything in the womb, what does that say about me?"

"_That you're the best! I knew it the moment I saw you. You did what you had to. Isn't that what we all do?"_

Skye looked up at him, distressed. "Grant…"

"When all of this is over, whatever happens, I'm afraid that I'll be alone." He closed his eyes, memories and futuristic images flooding him. "That you'll be gone - just like Tommy and John. And just like them, it will be my fault."

John scoffed. _"Don't get your dick in a twist, son. I'll be with you no matter what."_

That's what Grant was beginning to fear, too.

Skye managed to wrap her arms around him and squeezed tightly but gently. "You can't keep blaming yourself. I'm the one who wanted to come here. It was my choice. You were following me."

"If we're going by that logic, then I shouldn't have taken you off that transfer with me. Should have let Morse and Hunter get to you at that train station." Self-loathing flashed through his mind. "I shouldn't have brought you with me. It's brought you nothing but pain."

"That's not true," Skye protested. "You brought me the truth and- "

"What good is the truth if you're not _safe?"_ he hissed out. "At least with S.H.I.E.L.D., even if Coulson's insane, you'd be safe. Then you wouldn't have been dragged into all this."

"Nothing makes me feel safer than being loved by you."

"_Damn,"_ John said, laughing while Grant was stunned by Skye's admission. _"Remember that line. You can use it in the future."_

Grant's lips curled into a small smile. "Were you practicing that?"

Skye rolled her eyes at her previously-said words. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Your computer, that has a coded formula and everything, just rejected it. I have to try harder, huh?"

"No, you don't. You've been amazing, and you're handling everything better than most people would."

She seemed to preen. "Well, if I've learned anything by being around you, only the amazing and extraordinary survive in this world of spies and espionage. It helps big-time that I have the best sitting right here."

"_And who taught you how to be the best, son?"_

"Speaking of extraordinary, did you learn what you wanted from your father? I know I haven't asked yet, but…"

"He and my… mother named me Daisy," Skye whispered, deflating. "Daisy Johnson. My mother's favorite flowers were daisies."

Grant stilled. "That's what your father and Whitehall called you."

"_That, a siren, and a whore," _John reminded.

Her eyes shut. "I know. But that girl, that name, there are no memories from then. Daisy Johnson, she didn't have a chance; she never had the chance to grow up with a family, with parents. All my life, I always imagined what my birth name was, but I _never_ imagined tha- that I'm a- a _Daisy._" Her eyes opened, desperation therein. "I'm _not_ a Daisy. That's not who I am."

"It's your choice to make," he consoled. "But you _know_ who you are. You're father doesn't. I never had a different name; I was designed as a weapon from birth, but I know that I'm… more than a weapon."

John groaned. _"What the fuck are you talkin' about? Don't get all weepy on me. That's for the weak. Actually, it wouldn't surprise me. After all, you've always been weak, haven't ya, son?"_

Grant purposefully kept his gaze on Skye. "Just like you're more than a name. That's the basis of your identity, yes, but a name doesn't… summarize who you are. You know Hitler. Just because his name was Adolf didn't make him evil. His actions made him evil." At the expression on her beautiful face, he sighed. "I'm not helping, am I?"

Skye's eyes widened. "_No._ I- I think you are. Well, I don't know. I don't know what you're trying to say."

"_See why we don't do this feelings shit?"_

"I don't know, either," he admitted. "While everything I learned from Zenfield was- "

"Insane?"

"Something like that. But I had already lived that life. I had already experienced it. Somewhere, deep down, I think I somehow knew. I wasn't as surprised as I should've been."

Skye's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "I think you're remembering things differently than I am, Grant."

"The point is, you've never experienced being Daisy Johnson. While I don't have memories of the stuff Zenfield was talking about, they're in my head somewhere. You have _no_ memories whatsoever of that. I don't know how to fix what you're feeling."

Skye's lips stretched into a small smile. "Guys are always trying to fix things. Why do you do that?"

"_To get some pussy,"_ John answered, looking contemplative. _"That's why we do anything. That, and to survive."_

"I think it's to feel useful," he said slowly. "Fixing things is an action and men need action, need to use their bodies. I think the underlying threat of violence if fixing something goes wrong, like in a confrontation, plays a hand. Some guys are drawn to violence."

"Like you."

"Yes."

"Because of testosterone."

"That's what they say, and I think that's how it'll always be. Because of that, I don't how to fix how you feel about- "

"Well, you're helping just by talking and distracting me. Listening to everything I'm saying."

"We can keep going," he offered. "What else did your father say?"

"He kept raving about my destiny and stuff. He was Vader-ing me."

"Vader-ing?" Grant echoed, bemused. "Darth Vader?"

Skye nodded, her head pleasantly brushing his chest. "Yeah. Like, in _The Empire Strikes Back_ on Cloud City when Vader keeps telling Luke it's his destiny to join him, learn the Dark Side, and destroy The Emperor."

"What did your father mean by destiny?"

"It has to do with my mother. She had a gift- "

Grant interrupted, remembering what Whitehall had said. "She was immortal; she was the one who Whitehall experimented on and stole her life for his own. I'm sorry."

She inhaled slowly. "Yeah. Apparently, I have a gift, too. I'm special like she was."

"But you're not awakened yet," he finished, understanding. "That's what your father meant. And he's the only one who knows how to awaken your gift, which is why Whitehall is torturing him right now instead of you. Right now, you're still human. Only when your gift is awakened will he do his… inquiries, which he believes will bring back my flames. The sight and knowledge of you being tortured."

Skye was quiet for several moments. "I also learned that I was born in China."

"_A Commie,"_ John groaned out, disgusted, and Grant almost rolled his eyes, already knowing what was going to be said. _"Now you've really disappointed me, son. First, you stop listening to me and listen to your dick about this girl, but now this girl of yours is a fuckin' Commie! What the hell's wrong with you? Don't you remember what Mao did?"_

"What's Garrett telling you?" She was staring up at him. "You're quiet."

Grant shook his head. "I don't think you want to know."

"It can't be any worse than what I've learned in the past week."

"John's raving about how you're a Communist."

Skye rolled her eyes. "And you had to deal with him for fifteen years? I don't know how you did it."

"_You're still doing it, aren't you?"_

"He was all I had. We understood each other."

"You were right about my father, you know?" she said, getting away from discussing John. "He did go insane when my mother and I were taken from him. It was so bad that he experimented on himself with chemicals and serums. He's not a Super-Soldier like you, but he's… enhanced." Skye's breathing became chaotic but Grant continued to hold her, allowing her to talk, not interrupting. "He- he _allied_ with Whitehall just so that it would lead to our meeting. He somehow knew it would happen; he planned it. All because he wanted to help me achieve my destiny."

"_What's with all the shit about destinies lately? Are we in a fairy tale?"_

Grant could understand her father's thinking very clearly; it must be a testosterone-fueled bond or something.

"Did he turn out to be the monster in the stories you've heard?" he asked quietly. "Was he how you thought he would be?"

"Yes and no," she admitted. "He's a murderer, but… he _loves_ me. He loved my mother. All of it, he did it for me - so that he could see me again. But he did all of those things, and he doesn't regret it. I'm glad I learned, but I don't want that destiny, the gift. He kept saying that, once awakened, I would join him in avenging my mother. But I never knew her. Or him! I mean, there are no memories. I was so young when all that happened. I'm not gonna be like him. I'm _not._"

"And that's okay," Grant whispered. "It's your choice, remember? Maybe in the future, you'll change your mind about your gift, but you know what you're feeling right now."

Skye stared up at him, eyes wet. "I'm so glad I gave you a chance. I think it's the best decision I've ever made."

"Again, were you practicing that?"

She laughed and nestled further into him; it was worth the pain her actions caused. "And if I was?"

"Then you'd be pretty lousy at deep espionage," he drawled. "It's all about thinking on your feet; there's never time to practice."

"Good thing I'm not a Specialist. I'd probably be killed on the first mission. Since _you're_ the Specialist, do you… have a plan for any of this?"

"_She's looking for assurance, Romeo. Why don't you give it to her?"_

Grant briefly closed his eyes. "Playing along for now. That's the plan; it's all we can do."

Skye frowned. "What aren't you saying?"

"Since they keep giving me that repressor shot, I can't just tear my way through the base. I'm _human_ now. And since all we get is sparse water and no food, they're keeping us weak. Compromised."

He deliberately refrained from telling Skye that her presence was more of an issue than anything else. She was his weakness, and if he tried to fight his way out, he would be thinking of her, trying to determine if she needed help - she was a distraction, could be used against him.

"_Least you see the truth, son. This girl's gonna get you killed."_

"I'm only getting through by imagining all the ice cream I can eat," Skye whispered. "Otherwise, I'd just be _starving_. It's mind over matter, you know?"

"I do know. That's good. _You're_ good."

"But not as good as you. How are we going to escape?"

Grant sighed. "The only way I can visualize an escape is if… I have my flames."

"But your brother took them away."

"_And you killed mean older brother for it." _

"Exactly. They… have to be brought back somehow."

Skye stiffened. "And Whitehall thinks that watching me being tortured will bring back your flames."

Grant didn't say anything.

"Bu- but there has to be another _way._ Can't you just think about it?"

"I've been trying for days to coax back whatever it is I lost, but I can't _remember_. And when I say I can't remember, I'm serious. There's _nothing._ There's no feeling or instinct or even emptiness. It's just _blank_. If I can even get the flames back, it would take something drastic."

"_Like you-know-what."_

"I don't believe this," she breathed out, eyes on the verge of panic. "Yo- you're wanting Whitehall to _torture_ me? To do to me what he did to my_ mother?"_

Grant shook his head. "_No._ But that's what I'm afraid of."

Skye rapidly shook her head, now panicked. "_Grant._ Think of something!"

"I have been. But it's just the two of us, and we're both weak from lack of food. I don't have my strength or flames. I'm _human._ If we try to escape, we'll be punished."

"Punished?"

"Whitehall would need to make an example. He'd probably either beat me or you up while the other watches but can do nothing."

"_It's what I'd do,"_ John commented. _"Easy stuff. The only mess is the blood."_

"There _has_ to be something else we can do," she protested. "You're the best!

"Do you know _why_ I'm the best? Because I can shape my thinking to match someone else's."

Skye stared at him as if he were insane. "_What?"_

"Unless you can think the way someone else thinks - hell, the way a cold, immortal son of a bitch thinks - then you're defenseless against them because they'll go places you can't _imagine_ \- and that means they win. To be good, to be the best, you have to be _dangerous._ I've been thinking like Whitehall, and that's how I know there's _nothing_ we can do right now. And torturing me wouldn't work, wouldn't bring the flames back- "

"Why not?"

"Because I've been tortured before," he stated bluntly. "No torture has ever brought back my flames or anything."

John nodded. _"If that torture in Mozambique didn't spark those flames of yours, no torture ever will."_

"Then maybe Coulson's been tracking you," she said desperately. "Maybe we'll be rescued. Someone will come for us."

"Maybe," he said softly, not having the heart to tell her that no one was coming for them. That kind of belief would get them killed.

They had to rely on themselves to get out of the mess, for they were the only ones who could save themselves.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"If he hit the Sokovia base, he may still be there. We can check it out."

"He won't be there." Steve stared down at the open files spread and stacked on the table, body tight. Based on the concerned looks Sam was shooting at him, he wasn't hiding it well. "He vanishes every time into the wind. Natasha was right when she said he's a ghost."

"Do you want to stop?" Sam asked gently. "You're torturing yourself. I know you don't- "

He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head. "I _can't._ Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I have to keep looking. I have to find him. _Help_ him."

"I think he's been helping himself, though. I know you feel guilty about what happened- "

A broken laugh escaped him. "That's not even a tenth of it. You know, when Buck fell out of the train, it was thousands and _thousands_ of feet. And I wanted to go after him, find him because I just… I needed to see. I needed to send him home. But Philips said it was inaccessible. When I tried to argue, he said that not even I could have survived that fall so there was no point. But Bucky _survived._ And that's all he's been doing for all this time. He's been surviving torture and death and pain. He's been surviving instead of _living._ And if I had just told Philips to go to Hell and- "

"Beating yourself up about him can't change anything, Steve," Sam interrupted bluntly, but his eyes were sympathetic. "I used to do the same thing about Riley. What happened to Bucky is unimaginably worse than what happened to Riley, but the feelings that you feel are the same ones I felt. Guilt and regret are anchors; they change the very way you think. Even if you went to find Bucky's body, it might have been gone already. From what it sounds like, that Zola creep makes Tony Stark's intelligence seem average; he could have set everything up, had search teams waiting at the bottom of that ravine looking for Bucky's body before you could even do anything."

Steve nodded, trying to control his emotions. "I know that, but- "

"It doesn't help," Sam finished. "I know. Because all you can think about are the 'What Ifs.' But that's a dangerous line of thinking, Steve. I've seen guys beat themselves into the ground doing that. You may be a Super-Soldier, you may be Captain America, but you're still just a guy. You're human."

"Which is why I need to fix my mistake. I have to find Bucky and… help him. I mean, we know what he's been doing: Slaughtering Hydra like he's an… animal." Steve's fists clenched, overcome with anger and hopelessness. "He's still acting like The Winter Soldier instead of _Bucky._"

"You don't want Hydra destroyed?"

Steve glared. "Of _course,_ I do. I'd kill them myself, but my focus is on helping Bucky."

"And if slaughtering Hydra is what's helping him?"

"I don't see how it would. He needs to come _home._"

Sam picked up one of the files. "You don't know because you're not all-knowing. Man, you can read about everything that happened to Bucky, but the experience is different. You can imagine yourself in Bucky's shoes, your reaction if it had been you instead who fell out of that train and taken by Hydra, but that's still _fiction._ It's not reality. Ultimately, you don't know how you would react if you were in Bucky's shoes. You don't know how that would change you, affect you when you came out of it."

"What's your point?" he asked quietly.

"Stop fantasizing. Stop looking at Bucky like he's your best friend. Look at him like he's a prisoner of war. Someone who's been tortured more than anyone in history. A man who was denied the right of being a man. A man who wants vengeance."

"That's _not_ who Bucky is."

Sam shook his head, gesturing to file. "That's not who Bucky _was._ It's who he is now."

Steve was about to angrily retort but there was a knock on the door.

"Did you order food?" he asked.

Sam dropped the file on the table, grabbing his gun, silent. Steve nodded and grabbed his shield, walking towards the peephole. When he saw that it was Natasha, he chuckled in amazement and opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha breezed past him. "Doing something for a friend. Leave the door open for a few moments. It stinks in here."

Steve complied, frowning, trying to think of people who would ask Natasha for a favor that would involve him. "Clint? Tony?"

"No." Natasha looked around the motel room, eyebrows quirking at the pile of files on the table. "Pulling paperwork duty, Wilson?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Good to see you too, Natasha."

"It should be, for you two look like you haven't seen a woman in months."

"We haven't," Sam confirmed sullenly.

"Clearly. You can shut the door now, Steve."

Steve interjected as he shut the door, "What does Clint or Tony want? Why are you here?"

Natasha was staring at Sam, assessing and evaluating. "I'm here to mend bridges. The most stubborn man I've ever met has asked for my help."

"When did I ask for help? Or did you mean Tony?"

"Not you or Tony, Steve. Someone else. Someone you know - although how much, I can't say." Natasha nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Wilson, you can stay. You've proven trustworthy. But everything that's about to be said will _never_ leave this room. Understand? Don't betray my trust."

Sam raised his hands in innocence. "Sure. I don't know what the hell's happening- "

"Me neither," Steve agreed.

Natasha pulled out one of the chairs, sitting down. "You're about to. What you're about to hear, only one other person in the world knows." Her eyes looked past him and Steve felt the urge to turn around and see what she was looking at but ignored it.

"Natasha, _why_ are you here?" he asked, feeling concerned. "Did something happen? Did someone find you?"

"You could say that."

"Would you stop being so vague? Why are you here?"

"To confess." Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when they opened, they were calm. "Jam- _Bucky_ came to see me."

Silence.

The words floated in the air and Steve stared at her, suspended in a moment of disbelief. "Bu- _Bucky?_ He… came to see you? Yo- you _saw_ him?"

"Yes. He's why I'm here. He asked me to talk to you."

"_What?"_ he demanded; the anger was rising. "Why would he- "

"I was not entirely honest with you about how I knew The Winter Soldier."

Steve grit his teeth. "What a surprise," he murmured darkly, seeing Sam finally sit down, a strange look on his face. Steve remained standing, body bursting with chaos. "How did you lie?"

"He trained me in The Red Room."

"_What?_ Yo- … I want _specifics,_" he managed to spit out without losing complete control. Everything he knew was suddenly in jeopardy; he felt betrayed and furious. "Some honesty for once. I think I deserve it."

"You do."

"Then _why_ didn't you tell me you knew Bucky?" he exploded, words snapping through the air like a gunshot.

Natasha sighed. "This was the reaction I feared. If you are to understand, you can't think emotionally."

Sam finally spoke, "That's asking a lot right now." Steve glared at him in disbelief, but Sam just shrugged. "It's true. I'm not condemning you for it. Bucky was your best friend, more like a brother in all honesty, and you're still grieving. You're allowed to be emotional, Steve, but maybe try not thinking with your heart for this. It's the only way it'll work."

"You're a lot more than a pretty face, Wilson," Natasha quipped, but the grateful smile was real.

"I just need a woman beside you to see that."

"What's wrong with me?"

Sam scoffed. "You're terrifying."

Natasha smiled genuinely. "Thank you."

Steve plopped down on the bed, wanting to talk about the true matter. "Fine. I'll… try not to think with my heart. Now, why didn't you tell me that you knew Bucky?"

"I never knew Bucky, Steve. I knew James."

"James?" he echoed Bucky's birth name, incredulous. "Not even his mom called him James. _No one_ did. Why are you? Bucky hated being called that."

Natasha pursed her lips. "Because I knew James, not Bucky."

"I told you to stop being vague, Natasha," Steve warned, feeling his control begin to slip. "I can take it. What happened?"

"To survive, the boyish Bucky ceased to exist, and the man that is James took his place. And then later The Soldier."

Sam leaned forward while Steve was speechless. "Dissociative Identity Disorder?"

"Probably. It was something as simple as a change in identity that fueled James' survival." Her eyes looked past him, and Steve quickly glanced behind him but saw nothing there. "From what I've pieced together, the name 'Bucky' was charged with boyish dreams and fantasies; it was the embodiment of his childhood. If he was to survive, he had to become a man, which meant casting aside a name that would only weaken him."

Steve's eyes widened in outrage and denial. "_No._ It was _Bucky_ who pulled me out of the river."

"I do believe that I saw remnants of your Bucky, but that was the zenith of my interactions with him. As I've said, I knew James, not Bucky." Natasha glanced at Sam and seemed to be inwardly struggling with whatever she wanted to say. For several seconds, she was quiet, but then she spoke. "I'm not going to lie to you, Steve, because James means a lot to me - more than you know. I want him to live again, and that means having his brother back, helping repair the rift that was no one's fault but Hydra's…" Her expression became something real, authentic; he hadn't been aware that she had been holding a facade until then, but her eyes bled with raw intensity. "You see, James was the one good thing in my life; he was my light, the pillar upon which I could rest because he never faltered. Never deviated."

Steve leaned back, astonished and understanding, but Sam nodded, seemingly not surprised. "You loved him."

Natasha's eyes darted to Sam's. "He was everything to me."

He leaned forward, desperate, shelving that information for a later time. "I appreciate your honesty, but why didn't you go with me to find him? Surely, _you_ could have found him. You said he trained you."

"It's highly unlikely that I could have ever found him. I know his thought process better than anyone, but that doesn't mean I can compete against his sheer brilliance. In this case, the student never surpasses the master. I would only find him if he allowed me to, and he wanted no one to find him. I know because I looked to sate my curiosity; there was never anything to find."

"We've been on his trail, following his tracks- "

"There was never anything of _substance_. What you've found is irrelevant."

"But why didn't you help us- "

"Because I understood what James was feeling." Natasha held his demanding gaze with ease, green eyes intent. "I know the process of finding yourself again. He needed to choose, of his own volition, who he wanted to be. He couldn't have you or me whispering in his ear about who he was or should be. He must have the autonomy to do as he wants, be whomever he wishes. He's not had that for a long time, Steve. He had to learn on his own."

Stunned, Steve braced himself on the bed with his hands, fearing he might collapse. How blind had he been? "I never thought of that," he whispered. "I just… thought that I could help him. I wanted to."

Natasha nodded. "An understandable instinct. He's your brother."

"And you and him?" he asked, eyes drifting upward to the ceiling; he traced the lines and stains, but his mind was somewhere else, imagining and remembering. "I'm _shocked,_ but… I mean, Buck always had a thing for redheads; they made him go wild."

"He was always fascinated by my hair," she mused. "It may be what initially drew him to me. But I never asked."

"I can think of two other things that drew him to you," Sam murmured.

"Certainly," Natasha agreed.

Steve inhaled slowly. "So, ever since I've known you, you've been keeping this from me?" His voice began to rise, and he glared at her accusingly. "That _Bucky's_ been alive this entire time? That he- "

"I didn't know that James was Bucky, Steve."

"How could you _not_ know? There's footage of Bucky in my muse- … You never went to my museum, did you?"

Natasha looked unapologetic. "No. I never fathomed that James was Bucky. I was as shocked as you were when you recognized him."

He rubbed his forehead, feeling a pressure building in his skull; it pounded and thrashed against his sanity. "But… why didn't you say _anything? _Apparently, you've been suffering as much as I have!"

"It would have derailed the mission. You were already dangerously emotional about it. I feared that… if you knew of my- "

"Love for Bucky?" Sam guessed but withered under Natasha's glare.

"- _history_ with James, you'd become even more compromised." Her finger tapped against the table for a brief moment, a display of anxiety. "And I was worried that… you'd be angry. I feared this reaction. And we couldn't be at odds while Hydra was about to take over the world."

Steve could understand that. "I guess. But that doesn't explain- … You _knew_ Bucky? You were with him?"

"I knew James."

He would come back to that later. "Was he everything they say? In the files? The rumors I've heard?"

"Yes. He was everything they say. And so much _more._ What you saw of The Soldier, Steve, was a _glimpse._ He was emotionless when you met him, yes, but in The Red Room, he commanded power. Everyone feared him, even the handlers." She paused and stared at him, considering, judging. "And it… it tore me apart to watch him turn into someone else every time we weren't alone."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You have to understand- "

"Apparently, I'm having trouble doing that."

Natasha sighed. "Listen. The ice-cold, calculating monster into which Hydra molded him, I hated to see him that way. Yes, there's no one better than The Soldier, but I didn't want The Soldier." Her eyes drifted past him again. "I wanted _James._"

"I know what you mean."

"Really?" she challenged, raising a brow. "Do you?"

"Probably not," Steve admitted softly.

"You don't," Natasha confirmed bluntly, almost harshly. "Because in the blink of an eye, James would shift seamlessly into someone else before my very eyes. A switch was flipped. While I'm thankful he had The Soldier- "

"_What?"_ he demanded incredulously, seeing Sam frown in concentration as he looked at Natasha. "What are you talking about?"

Natasha sighed. "I believe that The Winter Soldier personality is a combination of Hydra's brainwashing and James' primal instinct to survive. The Soldier was an alternate personality into which he could lose himself; it was his way of surviving the unholy torture he suffered." Steve noticed Sam nodding in agreement, looking like everything he had secretly thought was now verified because of Natasha's confession. "I'm more thankful for The Soldier than you know, but no one terrifies me like The Soldier. How there was a look in those cold eyes that saw things that I never could - or how he spoke in a tone of voice, a freezing, deadly, commanding voice that was foreign to James'. Then I was left with a terrifying stranger until James reemerged."

"It _is_ Dissociative Identity Disorder," Sam breathed out. "A second personality."

Steve blinked, trying to process everything that he was learning about his best friend, things he had never fathomed. "I can't imagine…"

"The Soldier is the embodiment of James' powerlessness," Natasha disclosed. "To regain any of his might, he used The Soldier, harmonized with that part of himself because he was equipped to do so. He reverted to those primal strengths - the ugliest of them, of course - because it was all that he could do. It was the only way."

"Okay," he said slowly, trying to come to terms with that information. Bucky had been tortured so much that he had to create an alternate personality that turned him into a killing machine.

Now his guilt was so much stronger, and the raw emotions swelled in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him.

"I want to see more than a glimpse," Steve requested, prepared. "Make it… vivid."

Natasha raised a brow. "Is this masochism?"

"Don't insult me."

"Will you be able to handle it?"

"I said not to insult me!" Sam looked at him, worried, but Steve ignored him, trying to control his emotions; his voice became somewhat calmer. "My imagination's filled in a lot of gaps."

"I guarantee you it hasn't," she retorted almost gently. "You're not capable of descending into the darkness necessary to conjure the foulest thoughts possible. And that's a _good_ thing, Steve."

"But I need to _know._ Tell me about The Winter Soldier. Tell me why we keep running into mercenaries looking for him. Why I keep hearing about bounties for his capture that not even _Tony_ could pay."

Natasha acquiesced, nodding her head. "The Soldier was the best weapon ever developed by Hydra. By anyone. No one better has ever wielded a gun or knife or fought in combat. I know. I _saw_." Steve had, too, for he still had nightmares about how terrifyingly deadly and efficient Bucky was as The Winter Soldier, what Hydra had turned him into. About how many times he had nearly died, could have died because of The Winter Soldier. "Killing was his profession; escape, his ingrained obsession. In the world of spies and killers, no one reaches retirement age- "

Sam interrupted, "Except you and… Bucky, apparently. I mean, you're way older than you've let us assume."

Steve nodded. "That's right. How _old_ are you?"

"I thought it was customary of your generation to never ask a woman her age?" Steve paled and felt like he was a child all over again, but Natasha only smirked. "But, to answer your question, I wasn't born when Zola said I was. I'm surprised he didn't know the truth."

"So, you're- "

"Not as old as you or James," she said firmly. Apparently, her true birthday wasn't worth discussing. "The Winter Soldier is older than anyone, an ancient warrior beyond fathom and those aware of him fear an old man, regardless of his youthful looks, who dominates a profession where men die young. _No one_ wished to encounter him; it was as if he were The Black Death incarnate, a raging, famished lion. He was the greatest assassin the world had never seen until Hydra's Uprising."

"Damn," Sam whispered. "I mean, I saw him up close, but… it was all such a blur that I don't really remember much of it. He was moving so fast."

Steve felt nauseous, for that didn't sound like Bucky at all. It was terrifying. "I don't want to believe it."

Natasha's face softened. "Accept the fact that he's extraordinary; his record proves it. His ears aren't only to the ground; they're locked into the wind. He can hear things no one else can. For all I know, and it wouldn't surprise me if he somehow impossibly managed it despite everything, James may have contacts all over the world in nooks and crannies normal eyes can't see. It's the control of his rational mind. Logic, discipline, and creativity were his primary means of survival, and he taught me how to shape my thinking to that of his own, although mine would never match his incalculable genius. Hydra wanted the ultimate weapon, and in The Winter Soldier, they succeeded."

His nausea was swiftly replaced with rage. "So, Pygmalion created his Galatea, and the first killing became Aphrodite and gave the legend life. I'm sure critics would love it, but I _hate_ it."

Sam wasn't the only one who looked impressed by his reference. Natasha raised her brows. "I wasn't aware that you were so cultured."

Steve sighed. "My mom took me to see the play once when I was a child. I was only 7-years-old, but I still remember it."

"Well, you're right," Natasha said, and he hated that he was right. "And those few who were ever aware of The Winter Soldier's existence who also weren't part of Hydra issued extraordinary prices for his capture - and that was without them ever knowing that he's a Super-Soldier. But no one ever dared to attempt to capture him, too afraid, too weak to face him." Steve felt like he was back in the ice, mind slugging through all the information that couldn't be true, but he knew it was. "You spoke of mercenaries. To retain his services, his abilities, his skills, billions of dollars are prepared to be spent; he is a priceless commodity, for The Winter Soldier is an entire army by himself. He takes away stability and leaves nothing but chaos, crisis, and death, transforming healthy, prosperous countries into war zones in mere hours; he can upheave entire infrastructures, entire political landscapes by himself. I've seen it, for he's done it before, and he can do it again if he wishes. Which is what some _very_ wealthy men desire, leading to the bounties that you spoke of."

He blinked, shaking his head. "No, tha- … I don't understand."

"Like she said, it's all political," Sam said, eyes assessing Natasha. "Hydra was a political organization, too, and The Winter Soldier was their perfect… tool to shape the political landscape to be what they wanted. Despite spending billions of dollars to capture him and contain him, The Winter Soldier would be more than worth the investment; it wouldn't be long before they made back their investment with a lot of interest."

Natasha nodded. "_A lot_ more than a pretty face, Wilson."

Sam smiled. "That applies to you, too."

"It always has. And the one who taught me to be more than a pretty face was James, and in some cases, The Soldier."

Steve's eyes spasmed shut. "It doesn't seem real. How does… how can people like that exist? Who would make Bucky into a monster? Who want to _use _him as a weapon like Hydra did? It can't be real. It's not _human!_ Why would- "

Natasha sighed. "The Winter Soldier is a legend but he's not fiction, Steve. He's as real as- "

"I _know_ that!" he snapped. "That's Bucky!"

"_No._ Your Bucky died when he fell out of that train."

Steve's ire erupted. _"No!_ Bucky pulled me out of that river! He could have killed me so many times on that Helicarrier but he _didn't!_ Damn you, Bucky's in there!"

Natasha stared at him, quiet for several moments. "We both knew different facets of one man, no matter how extraordinary. Your Bucky and my James… maybe they're the same, but I don't know. I can't make that judgment. All I know is that whoever fell out of that train became another man once Hydra got to him. Something changed, shifted. His mind snapped and war never left him."

The sorrow began to mix with his anger. "But I could've helped him! I _can!_ If he hadn't been running away and going after Hydra instead of- "

"James has been venting his righteous outrage in the only way he knows how, fighting and murdering the enemy that stole his life from him," Natasha interrupted bluntly, and Steve was too stunned by the words to respond. Sam nodded in agreement; he had the feeling that it was something that Sam had been wanting to tell him but could never find the right words. "James is killing the killers who made him into a mindless killer whom all killers fear and admire. He will never be the same as he was when you knew him, regardless of all the therapy in the world. But then again, _you_ aren't the same man your Bucky knew, are you?"

Steve froze. "No… I'm not. But… why do these _people_ want Bucky? I know he's good- "

"The myths of The Winter Soldier's abilities ride with him; they're hypnotic, mesmerizing. He has killed many powerful men, and those aware of his existence on the political spectrum attribute other killings to him, using his lethal image for their own benefit. To be blunt, James is the assassin against whom other assassins cautiously measure themselves - and will always be found unworthy and weak. He is a mountain, whereas everyone else, no matter how skilled and clever and strong, is a small hill. He is not a soldier, but _The _Soldier. He is a warrior that will never die in combat for lack of a worthy foe; he is the champion superior to the championed. Remember what he did to you? To _Captain America,_ another Super-Soldier? Think of how superior you are to a regular Agent, a regular man, Steve. Now think of how superior The Soldier is to you. Because as superior as you are to a regular man, The Soldier was created to be as superior to you. Maybe Hydra succeeded, maybe they didn't- "

"They did," he whispered, a bout of chills erupting up his spine; memories assaulted him. "He could have killed me so many times. He was so much _better_ than me."

"_That _is why those people want The Soldier."

"It's so hard to believe," Steve said softly, finally beginning to understand. "I've read the file through and through. I've _memorized_ all of those damned words, but… that doesn't make it easier."

"Because that is but a _precursory_ experience. Close-read the files, put yourself in James' shoes and _imagine_ all of the suffering that he's endured. All the pain."

"I _have!" _he exploded, hands flinging upward with the force of his emotions. Sam looked at him, worried. "It's kept me up at night! Sometimes, it's all I can think about. Knowing that while I was frozen in ice, my best friend, my _brother_ was being tortured! I've imagined all the pain there can be, Natasha!"

"Then imagine all the rage and hatred that he feels right now. Imagine it, Steve. Maybe you can imagine the pain, but you can't imagine the experience or the rage."

Steve shook his head. "Don't be so sure. I know rage."

"But you don't know hatred; you have an idea, but that's all it is. Rage withers away. Ask Banner and he'll tell you; it's in his S.H.I.E.L.D. psychological evaluation. The Hulk will never be an endless enemy because of it; he will always transform back into Banner, for rage is unsustainable. Hatred is different; it's a constant presence, always rearing its ugly head, clouding bright days and tainting dreams." Natasha's eyes locked onto his. "I know hatred, and that is how it feels for me. It's intense and overwhelming; sometimes, it's the only emotion that can be felt. But what James feels is certainly worse."

He swallowed. "Why?"

"He was, metaphorically, castrated. A man's worth can be signified by his personal might and what he can accomplish, how he can rebel, and if possible, bend the world to his will. James was able to do none of that under his own volition because he lost the right of being a man. Then take into account that he lost something precious when Hydra found him."

"_Don't_ say his arm."

Her eyes ignited with fire. "I would _never._"

Steve felt immediately ashamed. "Sorry."

Natasha's lips thinned. "James lost his humanity. Ever since, he has only been able to lash out through cold but violent hatred when Hydra allowed him to. I _know._ I saw."

"How… how long did you know him?" he asked, heart racing.

"We kept our relationship a secret for a long time - _years_. We were so close to escaping, but… I made a mistake. It was my fault that we were separated and lost to each other."

Dread billowed in his chest. "What happened?"

Natasha's gaze went past him again and the emotions in her eyes surprised him. "I miscalculated. In the Widow Program, there were twenty-eight students, all of whom The Soldier - James - trained. I was the best, his favorite, and my sisters knew it. If they attempted to sabotage me, kill me, they knew that they would face James' wrath, and not even the handlers could stop him. I had a rival, Yelena, who became familiar with second-best. When James and I tried to escape, I approached Yelena, convinced that she would help us so that she could become The Widow; she would never be second-best again. But I- "

"Miscalculated."

Suddenly, Steve realized he wasn't the only one with soul-crushing guilt and regret regarding Bucky - or James - because that was what he saw in Natasha's eyes. It looked equal to everything that he felt.

"Yes," she whispered, head lowering. "Her envy and hatred towards me were so significant that she betrayed our plans. Our escape was doomed to fail the moment I miscalculated. When James discovered her betrayal, he executed her on the spot. But it was too late."

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered back, the air in the room clouding with guilt and remorse, terrible memories filled with so much pain. "We're the same, aren't we?"

Natasha lifted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, even when I had nothing, I always had Bucky. It sounds like you had Bucky - or James - even when you had nothing, too. Maybe Bucky and James are the same. He was always there for me when he could be - just like you. I'm glad you had him and that he had you."

"Thank you, Steve."

He nodded and glanced at Sam, who had remained silent, only listening. "I think I understand now. You were trying to tell me earlier, weren't you?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, but in not so many words. Her method worked _far_ better than mine ever would have. It's that personal connection that makes it more real."

Steve looked back at Natasha. "I understand now. But… why did you wait so long? Why did you wait for… Bucky to find you first?" He tried to quell the feeling of betrayal that Bucky would go to Natasha instead of him, no matter the connection they had had. "I would have understood- "

Natasha chuckled. "No, you wouldn't have. You needed to fail in your quest to find him. Time needed to pass. You were never going to listen to me immediately."

"What?"

"You're like Stark - _stubborn._ The only person who's more stubborn than you and Stark is James. But your stubbornness is more like Stark's. Once you get an idea in your head, there's no persuading you otherwise. You were convinced that you could find James- "

"Bucky," he corrected instinctively.

"- and were prepared to spend the rest of your life looking for him."

"You're right," Steve admitted, running a hand through his hair. "That was my mindset. That's what I was thinking."

"Is that what you still think?" Natasha challenged. "I've revealed a lot of information and I hope it changed your mind. Everything with James is complex, but you've mistakenly made it simple. You don't know what's best for him, Steve. Only James does. Can you live with that?"

Steve swallowed. "I'll do whatever Bucky needs me to do. I'll be whatever he needs me to be. Because you're right. He's not the same man he was back in 1945. And I'm not that same man I was back then, either." Sam looked proud of him and Steve looked down, enlightened, words tumbling from his lips. "I guess I've been so desperate to find him because… it was a way of getting my past back. Getting that golden era back. Bucky's my last link to my old life, to the world I was born in." Tears, despite himself, began to well in his eyes. "To the world I _miss_. And Bucky's integral to that world I miss. I just miss _him, _too_._ And that's selfish of me. Because while I've been thinking about what he needs, it's only because I think I know better than he does. That only _I _can help him. I thought Bucky needed me like I need him, but he doesn't. He's clearly more of a survivor than anyone in history. He knows how to help himself, and if that's by destroying Hydra bases and… killing the killers who made him into a mindless killer, then that's perfect. Because it helps him. And that's all that matters to me."

Sam chuckled, amazed. "Another good speech. I don't know how you do it."

His wet eyes connected to Natasha's. "Can you tell him that?"

Natasha smiled gently. "No need. He heard all of it."

"_What?"_

Suddenly, new sounds, heartbeats and breathing, assaulted his hearing from behind him, and Steve whirled around and felt reality crash around when he saw Bucky and two teenagers - a boy and clearly exhausted girl, who he dimly realized were probably siblings - standing past the bed, near the wall.

"Bu- _Bucky?"_ he whispered, body frozen in place, incapable of motion.

A small smile graced Bucky's bearded features and the attire and weapons strapped over him was that of The Winter Soldier, but it was definitely Bucky - or James. "It's good to see you, Steve."

Steve finally reacted, reaching towards him. "Yo- you were _here_ this whole time?"

"I needed to be."

"Damn," Sam whispered, astonished. "He _is _a ghost."

"With help," the exhausted girl corrected in an accent he couldn't place as she leaned on her brother for support, but he didn't care, focused solely on his best friend. His brother.

Bucky soundlessly approached him and Steve stared at him, half afraid that this was a dream, but when the sound of the heartbeat never faded, only got closer, he knew it was real.

"I've missed you, too," Bucky said softly, genuinely.

Steve surged forward and seized Bucky in a hug, squeezing as tightly as he could, ignoring the weapons and armor, brimming with emotion. "You son of a _bitch,_" he choked out, beginning to laugh. "I've been going out of my mind. I was so close to losing it."

"Better you than me. You saw what happens when I lose my mind."

He pulled back, serious. "I saw someone who had everything taken away. I saw a man forced to be a killer. You're not a killer, Bucky."

Bucky stared at him. "A killer's a killer, regardless of the name he uses. Whether it's Jack the Ripper… or The Winter Soldier, it doesn't matter. I'm a killer, and I've accepted it."

Steve swallowed. "Then I'm a killer, too. I've killed before and I'm sure I'll kill again. And I'll help you in whatever way I can in going after Hydra. But… I don't think I can call you James. It's foreign."

"I don't think I want you to."

Steve nearly wept in relief.

"I guess we're forming a new Avengers team," Natasha suddenly said. "Let's make introductions. Go on, children."

The weary girl barely managed to roll her eyes. "I'm Wanda and this is my brother, Pietro. Barnes rescued us from Hydra. We were experimented on, which gave us powers."

"We want revenge on Hydra, and Barnes is teaching us how to control our powers," Pietro said, taking over and Steve stared at them, disheartened. It shouldn't have surprised him that Hydra was experimenting on children, but it did. How evil could some people be? "I can run fast, and Wanda has telepathy and telekinesis."

Steve blinked. "Is that how you were in the room the whole time but none of us knew? You kept our minds from registering your presence?"

"Yes."

"Natalia knew," Bucky corrected.

"Natalia?" Steve echoed, looking at Natasha. "It's what Zola called you in the bunker."

Natasha sighed. "Like I call James 'James,' he calls me Natalia because that's who he knew me as."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You have a second personality, too?"

"No."

"Good. I didn't think you could be more terrifying, but the thought of you having a second personality… _Damn._"

"I'm starting to see why you have trouble meeting women, Wilson," Natasha retorted dryly.

"I could use some insight."

"I charge by the hour."

"Could I get a discount?"

Natasha's brows rose. "I wouldn't give _James_ a discount."

"Then I guess I'll get a second opinion."

"They won't be as thorough- "

"Enough," Bucky cut in, voice different. Steve stared at him because he suddenly didn't see Bucky. It was subtle, but he knew Bucky better than anyone - although Natasha might, apparently, be able to challenge him. Was he seeing The Soldier? "Deviation is unacceptable."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Understood, Soldier. Not to turn this sour, but we're here for another reason. We need your help, Steve. Yours, too, Wilson."

Steve frowned, the high he was feeling fading. "Help with what? I'll go after Hydra- "

"I have children," Bucky intoned.

"_What?"_ he choked out, bracing himself. "Children?"

As Natasha explained, Steve's grief and anger grew exponentially. Parts of his best friend, his brother were made into weapons, too, by Hydra. Children! And it was all a secret! All against his will! One of Bucky's sons had murdered his brother! He definitely began to see even more clearly why Bucky had been destroying Hydra bases and slaughtering everyone he could find.

Hydra was evil.

"Grant Ward?" Steve echoed, remembering that name. "I've heard of him. _He's_ your… son? I never met him, but they said he's _good._ Like, Natasha and Clint good."

"He's better," Natasha corrected. "He's not only a Super-Soldier superior to both you and James, but he has powers, too. He can control fire. I can't think of anyone more dangerous in the world besides Banner."

"The Soldier disagrees," Bucky informed.

Natasha was flippant. "That's his problem."

"It will become yours."

She glared at Bucky, but Steve was too stunned by how, like Natasha said earlier, a switch was clearly flipped. He was beginning to understand what she meant about The Soldier because that must be what had happened. "The problem facing me now is that you're being an ass."

"So be it."

"_Fine._ Maybe The Soldier's right, but we can't take that risk. I think Grant has his powers back. When he murdered his brother, the Senator, the forest and family cabin where they think the body is hidden was set ablaze."

"So, we're going after a potentially homicidal Super-Soldier who's also a Hydra Head that can control fire with an army of followers?" Sam asked, arms crossed, disbelieving. "We need more than just us. I'm only human. I'm not enhanced or powered like you guys. And no offense, I won't be sacrificing my life for Ward; for all I know, he'd sooner put a bullet in me than accept my help."

"It's possible," Natasha agreed.

Steve briefly considered asking Tony for help, but a brief surge of enraged remorse filled him. He remembered what Zola had said and what he had read in the file Natasha had given him. "It's just us. Maybe Clint- "

Natasha shook her head. "Off the grid."

"Then it's just us," he repeated. "I think it's too risky to ask Bruce and Thor for help, and I don't want Tony."

Wanda peered at him. "Tony Stark?"

Steve did his best not to look at Bucky. "Yes."

"Why don't you want him?" She looked innocent, but Steve's instincts alerted him that she was prying - for what, he had no idea. Especially when Pietro leaned forward, something flickering in his eyes.

"He's Iron Man, right?"

Bucky closed his eyes. "Stark?"

"Howard's son," he replied, feeling like he was being pulled in different directions. "Acts a lot like him. Tony's a little… crazy sometimes, and I think he would be going after Hydra right now. Some of those files from the data dump were vivid."

"And he doesn't understand the concept of stealth," Natasha pointed out. "Neither do The Hulk or Thor."

Steve nodded hesitantly. "Yes, but Tony's a good man; his heart's in the right place."

"I killed Howard."

Silence.

Steve bit his tongue so hard that he tasted blood, feeling his entire body clench as nausea swept through him.

Wanda's eyes widened, staring at Bucky with emotions Steve couldn't describe. "You _killed_ Tony Stark's father?"

Sam immediately strode to the minibar and pulled out a bottle of beer. "This day hasn't gone like I expected it to _at all._"

Trying to grasp a shred of normalcy, Steve looked at Sam. "I thought you were trying to cut back."

"I was," he retorted, bringing the bottle to his lips. "I haven't had a drink in a month."

"I didn't know you missed it."

Sam took a long drink. "I miss it _now._"

If it would have affected him, Steve would have joined him, but all he could do was stare at Bucky. "I'm sorry, Buck."

Natasha placed a hand on Bucky's flesh arm. "You knew him, didn't you? Howard?"

Bucky's eyes met Steve's, and he felt powerless at the resigned acceptance shining in his friend's eyes. "He liked you more than me. We were too… similar. Chasing after some of the same women. Arguing. He was _smart_. And he knew it. He… flaunted it."

"Yes," Steve breathed out, feeling a prickling appear in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I killed his wife, too," Bucky murmured, something shifting in his voice. "It was easy."

Steve felt the urge to empty his stomach of everything he had eaten earlier but narrowly staved it off. "That wasn't you- "

"Yes, it was." Steve stared at Bucky, jaw clenched, but Natasha stared at Bucky with sad eyes. "I am The Soldier; he's part of me, a big part."

He nodded and didn't say anything, not sure what he could say.

"Look, I don't want to be that guy, but we need to solve this," Sam cut in, looking apologetic after he took a big swig of his beer. "We need _someone._ We need help. Ward sounds _dangerous_. Like, someone you call in The Avengers for. Control over fire while, on top of that, being a Super-Soldier that's _superior_ to The Winter Soldier and Captain America? If The Avengers went after him, they better be thankful they have Hulk and Thor."

"We're not working with Tony," Steve declared resolutely. "I can't deal with that. I _can't._ Because I already know who's side I'd pick. We need to find someone else to help us. It sounds like Grant is in the heart of Hydra. We'll be facing thousands of Hydra's Agents."

"I know someone," Natasha said slowly. "A dead friend, you could say."

"Fury?"

"Coulson."

"_What?"_ Steve demanded, stunned. "Coulson's dead! Loki killed him."

"Fury brought him back. Don't ask how because I don't even know. What I do know is that Coulson's the new Director."

"I thought I said that S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to be disbanded- "

"Fury was never going to submit to your authority. You should know better by now, Steve. He didn't get to be Director by showing kindness and doing what you would think is right. Coulson, from what I've gathered, has been targeting Hydra in America- "

Bucky frowned, eyes piercing. "He's incompetent. Hydra's activities in the States have only grown since The Uprising. And because I've been decimating all of their overseas bases. The three living Heads are in the States: Whitehall, Malick, and… Ward."

Steve inhaled sharply. "Gideon Malick? From the Security Council? He's a Hydra _Head?"_

Natalia didn't look surprised, so he realized that Bucky had already told her. "Yes."

He, to his surprise, got over his shock about Malick's allegiance and that Coulson was alive very quickly. It worried him that he could accept things like that so easily, but he knew it was better to be calm than angry about it.

"Do you know where he's at?" he asked, looking at Natasha.

"Fury told me before he vanished."

"Then we'll meet with Coulson. Ask for his help."

Natasha smirked. "With you there, he'll be the one asking _to_ help."

Steve felt a brief surge of embarrassment. "Maybe."

Wanda raised an exhausted brow. "Why are you thinking about trading cards?"

He nearly groaned, but at the sight of Bucky's slightly, infinitesimally amused expression, it was more than worth it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye's stomach grumbled and she felt so weak; it was easily the longest time she had ever gone without food - and it sucked. It was made even worse because she felt so thirsty, too, because whatever water she and Grant were given, it was just enough to keep them alive.

Whitehall was truly a monster. And that made her fears about her father skyrocket. She was aware enough to know that her father was being tortured, but what did that mean for her? Would he reveal the secrets about her gift like Whitehall wanted?

Beside her, Grant's eyes were closed, but she knew he was probably just thinking about ways to escape, give the appearance that he was asleep, or listening to Garrett.

Skye much preferred the former two, but fearing that the latter was a real possibility, she spoke, voice croaky. "You said you've gone two weeks without food, right?"

Grant's eyes slowly opened and she felt so incredibly reassured when he looked calm, in control despite their predicament. "When John left me in the woods with Buddy."

That really made Skye's heart hurt, but she powered through. "And Buddy was your dog, right?"

"Yes."

"How'd you last so long?" she whispered, trembling, body aching for sustenance. "In my van, there were a few times I went without food for a day or two, but nothing like _this._ I'm thinking about ice cream as much as I can, but it's not enough."

"By being a tough and stubborn son of a bitch," Grant replied, voice gentle but serious. "I was too angry to give up and keel over. Too angry to be weak. Too angry to die."

Skye didn't even have the energy to roll her eyes. "You're such a guy. I wonder if you were The Hulk instead, what would happen? Would you be more… destructive than Dr. Banner? I mean, you're always so _angry_. I know you are. Deep down- "

"Anger keeps me sharp; it gives me an edge. But only when tempered by the mind. Emotions get you killed, yes, but they can also fuel you. Rage being the best one behind only hatred. You don't think rage or hate is what fuels May? What makes her a bitch?"

"I don't- "

"That it's what fuels my… father? All of the most dangerous people in this world are angry. Including me."

She peered at him, trying to muster enough energy to sound convincing. "But doesn't anger eventually burn out? Doesn't it make you crash?"

"For others, yes, but not me; the Berserker Staff's effects are still there. They're _always_ there. And you tap into anger when necessary, like now, tempering it with the mind." Grant paused for several moments. "To survive, you have to _want_ to survive."

Skye did manage to conjure enough energy to roll her eyes. "I know that."

"But you need an instrument to help you to do it. Rage, for me, is the most efficient; it's a tool. It ignites your body and mind in ways that only adrenaline and lust can compare to. Same with hatred. To survive, you have to be _angry_."

She sighed. "I don't believe that. It's too… Dark Side of The Force-y. I'm not an angry person."

Grant snorted. "You were after The Uprising. After I stayed with John."

"I was _hurt_, not angry."

"You were hurt, which fueled your anger, which fueled your desire to be an Agent. You weren't thinking clearly. You weren't using your mind to temper your anger."

Skye just nodded. "You're right. But how do I make myself stop feeling hungry? I feel like I can barely move 'cause I'm so weak."

"You're never going to stop feeling hungry. It's mind over matter, remember? That's what it comes down to. I know it's a pain in the ass, I know it sucks- "

"That's not even half of it."

"- but we're going to get out of here." Grant's eyes were more serious than she had ever seen them. "Eventually, there will come a point when Whitehall is vulnerable, when he makes a mistake. And I'll be the last thing he ever sees as I rip out his spine."

She shivered. "That's too much blood and gore for me, even if he murdered my mother and is torturing my father. It's fun to watch it in the movies, but real-life? No, _thanks_. I just wanna get _out_ of here."

"We will, I promise. And you _know_ that I keep my promises.

Skye felt hope bloom in her heart. "I know… Do you think if we tell Whitehall what he wants to hear, he'll- "

"The problem is we have no information to feed him. He wants to know about your gift but even you don't know about it. Only your father knows."

"But that means- "

The door abruptly burst open and she tensed, feeling a surge of adrenaline rush through her weak body when Whitehall appeared with a legion of guards and then Skye's breathing froze when she barely recognized the figure of her father ushered into their cell.

Her father wasn't wearing a photostatic veil like Fake May, but he had changed - _oh, he had changed!_ In the span of what couldn't have been more than a week, he seemed to have aged, grown thinner, and bald - he wasn't the sharp, lithe, full-head-of-haired monster of Skye's memory.

"_Daisy,_" her father croaked out, wavering on his feet before he collapsed and Skye was unable to prevent her instinctive urge to try to catch him, but Grant's sudden iron grip on her arm prevented her from moving too much.

"_What_ did you do to him?" she demanded, voice sounding shrill in her ears; she glared up at Whitehall with fire in her eyes. "What did you do?"

Her father smiled but it was so different; it looked human. "They pumped me full of many drugs, torturing me for the information about how to awaken you. But I wouldn't relent."

"It was impressive," Whitehall mused, voice devoid of anything resembling morality. "He possesses a regeneration talent that has made my inquiries that much sweeter and invasive. While I can be patient, I loathe unnecessary complications. Your father's refusal to comply is one such thing. There is one other who knows the information necessary, I have learned. Someone with whom your father shared it."

Skye's eyes widened. "He didn't tell me anything."

Grant finally reacted. "You _touch_ her, I'll put your immortality to the test."

Whitehall was unaffected, his eerie eyes continuing to gleam with an unholy light. "Not you, little Daisy. We found her, someone who seems to actually care about your father." Skye didn't understand, having no idea who could possibly care for her father, but Whitehall motioned with his hand. "Bring her in."

She gasped when she recognized Raina, bound in handcuffs and face swollen from what looked like a terrible backhanded slap, escorted into their cell.

It had never felt so cramped.

"Raina," her father whispered, proving that there was a connection.

Raina's face pinched at the sight of Skye's father, but she remained where she was, silent.

Grant began to laugh. "This is perfect. Half of the people on my must-kill list are right in front of me. The only two missing are Coulson and May."

Skye refused to let that fact distract her.

"Agent Ward," Raina murmured, and for the first time, Skye suddenly realized that Raina was a lot like Whitehall; their eyes were so, so cold and eerie. "And _Skye._ I'm not surprised. You have become monsters together."

"Not yet," Whitehall cut in. "Grant Ward is without his flames and Super-Soldier physiology, and Mr. Zabo has refused to cooperate to tell us about how to awaken his daughter's gift. But he did mention _you_ in his delirium. Why did he do that?"

Skye watched Raina home in on Grant with an intensity that inspired a pit of hostility to form; she looked at Grant with what looked like 'bedroom eyes.' "A _Super-Soldier?_ We were given a blood sample by Agent Garrett, which is how Project Centipede started. Without it, we were hopeless. Am I correct when I assume that the blood was obtained from _you?"_

Grant looked like something was confirmed; he had probably suspected that's what Garrett had done. "Probably."

"How interesting."

"You won't be thinking that when I crush your head like a grape," Grant immediately hissed out, and she shivered at the teeming rage in his voice, the viciousness in his gorgeous eyes. "You lying _bitch._ You said the GH-325 would save John, not make him insane!"

"Higher powers decreed it, Agent Ward. There was nothing I could do."

"Wrong answer! You'll be meeting those higher powers momentarily!"

"Not yet, Grant Ward," Whitehall interrupted calmly. "This Raina must play her role in all of this."

Grant's eyes seemed to burn. "Her role is to _die._ Same as yours. You'll both be in body bags by sundown!"

Skye wished she had his confidence - or furious arrogance.

"Time will tell- "

"I _know,_" Grant snapped in interruption. "And just like you know, I'm gonna rip out your spine."

Whitehall nodded towards one of the emotionless Hydra Agents, and before Skye could react, the butt of the rifle was smashed into Grant's face; his head snapped back like a slingshot, and she nearly screamed but held it in.

"Stop!" she instead cried out. "_Stop!"_

"Leave Daisy alone!" her father roared from his lying position, looking frail and feeble; he was guarded, incapable of acting if he even could in his weakened state. "I'll kill you!"

"Your whore understands the situation, Grant Ward," Whitehall said calmly, as if talking about the weather. Skye hated him. "A man of your great intelligence should, as well."

Grant spat out blood, glaring up at Whitehall. "I understand enough."

"Good. I must understand more." Whitehall turned to Raina. "Tell us of little Daisy's gift. Everything you know."

Raina raised her chin. "I don't know anything."

"How unfortunate for Mr. Zabo, then." Skye's father was suddenly hoisted to his feet, head lolling with delicacy. "If you don't tell me what I want to know, I will kill him. My inquiries have been satisfied. Your death will be on his hands."

Skye's lips parted in panic. Her father was a lot of things, and he definitely deserved punishment for everything he'd done, but he didn't deserve death! "_Don't!_ Stop!"

"The Obelisk," Raina said quietly. "It's what awakens us."

"_No!"_ Skye's father screamed hysterically. "Stop it, Raina!"

"_Us?"_ Whitehall echoed, a zeal entering his eerie eyes, and Skye could only stare at Raina in shock. "You're part of the invasive species?"

Raina was 'special' like her and her mother?

"Yes." Raina lifted her chin, proud. "Our destinies are divine. Your stolen immortality is nothing when compared to all of the gifts our people possess. _We_ are angels."

Whitehall's lips curled into something sinister, and he held out his hand. A gun was placed there by one of his men, and then he immediately jammed the gun against Skye's father's head. "Tell me everything."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Things were progressing as well as could be expected. While Grant Ward's obstinacy was an irritant, he was unsurprised. Being young and the most superior son of The Winter Soldier ensured such complications. The two members of the invasive species, Grant Ward's whore and the orphan, were two pieces around which much of his plans revolved.

Grant Ward was a piece for Hydra, but for Whitehall, the two creatures were for himself. It was his crusade: To rid the world of unnatural threats while securing immortality. Half of his crusade had come to fruition, and he was so close to ensuring all of it reality.

Now he knew about the Temple and what the true purpose of the Obelisk was.

Stepping back into his office, he observed the screen on his computer, watching unblinkingly as Grant Ward, Mr. Zabo, and the two creatures were heatedly arguing. He listened to what they were saying:

"_You're not just a lying bitch,"_ Grant Ward snarled, the anger impressive enough that Whitehall had come to realize that the orphan had something to do with Garrett's death. _"You're a lucky one, too. If it wasn't clear that I can use you to get me and Skye out of here, I'd squeeze the life out of you right now."_

"_Grant, stop it!"_ The whore clutched at her lover's arm. _"This won't solve anything._"

"_I couldn't save Agent Garrett, Agent Ward,"_ the orphan replied, nonplussed. It was impressive, for Grant Ward's fury was second to only his father's. _"He was too far gone. I never anticipated that he would go insane from the GH-325."_

"_Then that's some brain you have. I should have shot you when I had the chance. Believe me, it's not a mistake I'll make again. The only reason you're still alive- "_

"_Is that I can be of use to you, I know."_

"_Don't forget it. Because when we're free and away from all this, I'm going to look down on your corpse and smile."_

Mr. Zabo chuckled, the glimmer of madness returning. _"I owe you much for what you have done for Daisy, but now I respect you. Daisy, you have my blessing."_

While the orphan looked hurt by Mr. Zabo's words, the whore put her face in her hands. _"That's just what I need." _

"_Once we are awakened, our gifts will lead us to escape," _the orphan quickly declared, trying to get away from Mr. Zabo's disregard for her life, and Whitehall listened closely. _"We are divine. My grandmother said I'd be an angel. Our freedom will be inevitable after we reach the Temple."_

"_Angel?"_ Grant Ward echoed. _"You're gonna sprout wings?"_

Mr. Zabo answered, _"One's gift is never apparent until they are awakened."_

"_And if we don't want our gift?"_ the whore asked slowly but it was clear. _"If we… reject it?"_

The orphan turned to face the whore._ "Only a fool would reject- "_

"_Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about all of this. It's insane. Crazy! I'm only just learning about it. You may have had years to get ready for this moment or whatever, but I've barely had a week!"_

Whitehall reckoned that would make his inquiries on her that much sweeter.

"_It's your destiny, Daisy,"_ Mr. Zabo said. _"This is how it's meant to be."_

"_Would you stop Vader-ing me? You make it sound like I don't even have a choice."_

Grant Ward spoke, _"You might not. It might be our only way to escape."_

Whitehall leaned back in his chair, considering; a seed of caution bloomed in his mind at the orphan's conviction. Mr. Zabo's wife had been immortal, but apparently, not all of the invasive species were immortal; they possessed other gifts, potentially army-devastating ones. Combine that with Grant Ward's flames that could potentially return, something had to be done to prevent such a reality.

Coming to a decision, he muted the audio and picked up his phone and dialed, placing it to his ear. After several moments a voice spoke, _"For whom is this call?"_

"Gideon Malick. It's of premier importance."

"_With whom am I speaking?"_

"Your superior."

"_I need more to go on, sir."_

"Whitehall."

Several moments passed, and then Malick's recognizable voice peeked through. _"Do you have news about Von Strucker?"_

"It was The Soldier."

"_Don't repeat what I already know. What provoked him to attack Von Strucker? There was no connection between them."_

"It's unknown. Only The Soldier knows. That's not why I needed to speak with you."

"_Did Ward escape?"_

"No. We have him contained, and he himself admitted that there will be no foreseen escape without his flames, which are now nonexistent. Christian's talents were remarkable."

"_Were,"_ Malick stressed bitterly._ "For that alone, you should put a bullet in his brain. Christian was to usher in our next stages of evolution."_

"Something of which his brother is more than capable. His potential far surpasses his brother's. Fire will purify all that- "

"_Enough of your zealous spiel. No digressing."_

"You were the cause of the digression."

"_Don't patronize me. We may be matched as Heads, but you aren't my equal."_

"Spoken like one who is still learning. One still young. I am much older than you."

"_But less accomplished. While you rotted in S.H.I.E.L.D., I worked intimately with legislation, helped manipulate events- "_

Whitehall smiled thinly, interrupting, "A civil war is not in our interests. S.H.I.E.L.D. still lives, and until they are exterminated, we must remain allies, regardless of how much we detest such a reality."

"_Unfortunately. Why did you contact me?"_

"The zenith of my crusade is near. There is a Temple that will awaken the gifts of those creatures, and once they are awakened, I will be able to inquire as I wish."

"_Why is that my concern?"_

"Aid is needed."

"_How are you low on funds?"_

"Aid of a physical nature. I want our legions at the Temple. All of our Agents, everyone who can be reached. It is a direct order from a Head."

"_Why?"_

"In case the creatures' gifts are potentially devastating. And Grant Ward is volatile, unpredictable. While we have controlled him thus far, if he awakens his flames at the sight of his whore in possible pain, he will raze us."

"_What is my recompense for such aid? For tolerating most of our forces in one location?"_

"Grant Ward can be the vessel for your entity, and since my crusade will have been completed, I will aid you in your crusade for your entity."

"_Our entity,"_ Malick vehemently corrected before he was silent for several moments, pondering the offer. _"If I provide all of the men I can, migrate our forces to the Temple, Ward's broken body will fuel the ascendancy of our glorious- "_

"Yes. Or you may choose The Soldier. Grant Ward can capture his father if that is your desire."

"_And your inquiries?"_

"Will be focused on the creatures of the invasive species."

"_S.H.I.E.L.D.?"_

"They are weak and incompetent. According to Grant Ward, Phil Coulson has been driven mad. I do not foresee any complications."

"_Then we have an accord."_

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Soldier was growing stronger, his presence burning like fire, but James held firm. Yet, it was difficult when in the presence of the enemy, one with Agents who gaped at him with a mixture of shock and poorly-concealed fear.

_There are no sides,_ The Soldier whispered. _The only certainty is death. Kill them all._

_Shut up!_

James refused to be the one who broke the tense silence that had befallen them all after the stunned introductions. It would be showing weakness, something unacceptable.

He sat at the large table, Steve on his left with the twins and Wilson, while Natalia sat on his right - where she should always be. On the other side of the table, Director Coulson and his team had convened.

Several of the Agents stared at Steve in awe, but Agent Fitz's gaze remained locked on James' bionic arm.

"Your app- app- _appendage_ is incredible."

He noted that Steve's eyes widened in uncertainty, but he spoke first, voice devoid of emotion. "It was made by a genius."

"I'm a genius," Agent Fitz said pleasantly, nodding his head, eyes still locked on his bionic arm.

"One beyond you," James clarified tonelessly. "You don't compare."

_Zola's life should have been ours!_ The Soldier roared, the force of his fury threatening James' sanity. _That right was stolen from us! _

"A polymath?" Agent Fitz breathed out, something seeming to shift in his eyes; there was a sudden lucidness that had been lacking. "Dr. Zola was- "

James stiffened, and The Soldier slipped through, but before Agent Fitz was murdered, Wanda frantically cut in. "Don't say that name!"

It gave James the time to retake control from The Soldier. _Enough!_ _I don't need you right now. Get away!_

_Never! _The Soldier screamed, thrashing against James' control. _I am your survival!_

_I don't need to survive right now! I need to not kill anyone!_

Agent Fitz blinked, bowing his head. "I've heard of him."

"We all have," Wilson muttered.

Before anything else could be said, Director Coulson clasped his hands together. "Agent Romanoff, when Fury notified me that you knew of my survival, I expected a visit from Stark, not The _Winter Soldier._"

Natalia shrugged beside him, and he basked in her presence; he had missed her more than she would ever know. "I didn't think to mention your survival to Stark and the others. And I'm not an Agent anymore, Phil. I'm an independent."

"And I'm not a fellow Agent anymore." Director Coulson's eyes were serious, and James already knew he didn't like him. It would take more effort to restrain The Soldier, to make sure that Director Coulson wasn't killed. "I'm the Director. Address me as such."

"Fury taught you well," Natalia drawled, and to everyone but him and Wanda, she seemed calm, but James saw the displeasure in her eyes. "You have that same air about you now. I didn't think it was possible, but I was wrong."

Agent May, who James had already determined would be the least accommodating of all the Agents, frowned. "What are you saying, Romanoff?"

James saw Pietro lean back in his chair, closing his eyes. "It's obvious," the boy said tiredly. "She doesn't approve."

"I don't approve of two _children_ being here," Agent May retorted, voice cold. "We don't know who you are, or why you're here."

_I do not know why you persist in allowing her to still breathe, _The Soldier hissed in his mind, the words coiling around him, a tangible grip on his soul. _She does not trust us; she would rather kill us than trust. Kill her first. Slit her throat!_

"They are under my protection," James murmured, his words floating in the air. "A threat against them is a threat against _me._"

"And me," Natalia added, voice bored.

Steve glanced at him, his eyes conflicted, but his words were concise. "My side is clear, Coulson. I'm standing with Bucky."

James felt the loyalty of his friend, and something unclenched inside him. Even after Natalia had explained things to Steve, he had doubted him, been unsure if Steve would stand by him.

Agent Hunter whistled. "Hell of a bodyguard team."

"Be that as it may," Director Coulson cut in, "as Director of- "

"An _incompetent_ Director," James corrected, unable to keep the rage out of his voice. "Hydra has only grown in the States; you've done nothing about it. I've done more to kill Hydra than you."

_It was me!_ The Soldier roared. _I have killed Hydra, not you!_

_We've done it together,_ James snapped back. _Without you, we would fail, but without me, you wouldn't exist. _We_ are Hydra's doom. Not you, and not me. We must survive - together. It's the same compromise we made decades ago. It's how we succeed."_

_I remember._

_Then stop challenging me, Soldier!_

Agent Simmons leaned forward in her chair; her young face was pinched. "Two of us were undercover in Hydra- "

"That's not enough; it never was. _Nothing_ is enough until Hydra is dead."

Agent Morse shifted in her seat; she looked irritated. "Agent Simmons and I secured vital intel about Hydra when we went undercover. They're planning something and it will happen soon. We have strategically attacked known locations for their bases and foiled their plans since The Uprising. So, with all due respect, we've done more than you, Sergeant Barnes."

The Soldier screamed in outrage, his blood-soaked fury freezing James in place; he said nothing, knowing that if he did, it would be the promise of Agent Morse's slaughter and any who stood by her. He didn't move, knowing that if he did, The Soldier would spring loose and unleash the slaughter.

Thankfully, Natalia spoke, voice a reprimand; she understood. "Those destroyed overseas Hydra bases paint a different picture, Morse. James did all of that himself."

"_You?"_ Agent Simmons exclaimed, astonished. James noted that she wasn't the only one. Even Agent May and Director Coulson were surprised. "No man can reap such destruction by himself!"

"He is no mere man," Natalia corrected.

"I am superior," he intoned, appeasing The Soldier.

Agent May raised a brow. "Then why are you here?"

"We need your help," Steve finally said, gazing at each member of Director Coulson's team. "If we do this right, we can end Hydra's threat once and for all."

"With Captain America on our side, this is our best shot," Agent Triplett observed, eyes glancing at Director Coulson. "Sir, I believe it's our best option."

"From a tactical standpoint, yes," Agent Morse admitted in agreement. "This could be the break we've been looking for to get the drop on Hydra. They would be unprepared for all of us, particularly Black Widow, Captain America, and… Sergeant Barnes."

Director Coulson's eyes looked from Steve to James. "Sergeant Barnes, how do I know that you are free from Hydra's control?"

_Kill him._ The Soldier ordered. _He doubts us. That is unacceptable._

Steve's eyes widened in outrage, and James watched as he leaned forward; he heard his friend's heart beating with indignation. "_What_ are you implying?"

"His mission may have been to integrate himself with us, manipulating events so that we are primed for an attack by Hydra."

"Trust my judgment," Natalia snapped, words heated. "He is free of them."

"I need more than that, Agent Romanoff."

"Not an Agent, Phil."

James interjected, voice detached. "I am here for my son and Hydra's death."

"_Son?"_ Agent Fitz blinked rapidly, not the only one surprised. "You ha- have a- a son?"

"I believe you know him," Natalia commented, but the subtle tightness in her posture indicated that she was preparing herself. "Grant Ward."

Silence - filled only by the sharp intakes of breath from Director Coulson's team.

James had listened to Natalia's findings on their way to the base about Grant's history with Director Coulson and his team; he felt no surprise by the various reactions consisting of horror, shock, and disbelief.

Director Coulson was the first to react; something shifted in his eyes, and James was prepared. "Ward is _your_ son?"

"Yes."

Agent Hunter threw his arms in the air. "_Shit._ Now we know why he's so good. His old man's The Winter Soldier!"

"Ward _is_ a Super-Soldier," Agent Morse suddenly breathed out, staring at Agent Hunter, Agent Triplett, and Coulson. "Remember the train station? I told you. Ward's a Super-Soldier - just like his father. He inherited it."

_He is the most superior of your children,_ The Soldier observed. _The girl is weak, but Grant is strong. He can help us kill Hydra._

"It do- doesn't explain th- the blood work," Agent Fitz pointed out with a stutter.

James remembered from Natalia's findings that the young man permanently spoke with the stutter because of Grant.

"It _does_ explain how he hit me so hard," Agent Triplett muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

Agent Simmons stared at James, face pale; her lips trembled. "You have the same facial structure and bone structure as Ward. How did I not see it?"

_A blind scientist,_ The Soldier hissed out, disgusted. _Just like Hydra's scientists. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same. There are no sides. Kill them all!_

"Nothing is more elusive than an obvious fact," Natalia answered not unkindly.

"Now it's all I can see," Agent Simmons continued; she looked like she might vomit. "He looks so much like you. He _is_ his father's son."

Beside James, Steve stiffened at the revulsion in her voice. "_What_ are you saying?"

"She thinks Barnes' son is a monster," Wanda answered, finally speaking up. "She wants him dead. She thinks Barnes' nature might have had something to do with what happened to her and Agent Fitz. Because Grant inherited such a monstrous nature from Barnes, who is The Winter Soldier, it led to their trauma by Grant's hands."

_Your son is worthy,_ The Soldier praised. _I look forward to meeting him._

"Delusional thoughts," Natalia snapped, glaring at Agent Simmons. "You don't know anything about what Hydra is capable of, Agent Simmons. If you wish to understand an event, you must start at the beginning, and then work to the heart. As a scientist, you _know_ that one's nature as a person is not determined by whomever their parents are. Environment shapes one just as much, if not more than genetics. James is not at fault for Grant's actions."

James felt vindicated by Agent Simmons' pallor, but he needed more; he leaned forward, the air crackling with intensity. He didn't know if it was because of himself or The Soldier. "I know what happened to you, but I don't care. All I care about is destroying Hydra and getting my _son._ Think of me what you will. Think of Grant what you will. But the fact that- "

Director Coulson interrupted, eyes adamant. "The fact that Ward is _your_ son makes him more dangerous than I ever thought."

"That's a recurring theme," Natalia observed dryly.

"Ward was already one of the most deadly men in the world, but now we know he's a Super-Soldier. The fact that he was able to _hide_ his nature from S.H.I.E.L.D. for a decade attests to how dangerous he is."

"He didn't know that he was like me and Bucky," Steve cut in, and James was grateful. "He surely knows now, but he didn't before. He didn't have access to his natural physiology."

Director Coulson's eyes narrowed. "I find that hard to believe."

_Taking his tongue will awaken his belief,_ The Soldier snapped. _Do it now!_

"It's true," Wanda asserted. "I know. I saw it."

Agent May frowned. "Why would we believe you, a child?"

James glared at her, feeling his face twist with darkness, with the beginnings of The Soldier. "I don't care what you believe. You can believe that I'm a monster, that Grant is a monster. You can believe that I'm a traitor- "

Steve gasped beside him, but Director Coulson quickly spoke, an urgency in his voice. "We understand what you went through, Sergeant Barnes. Frankly, we can only imagine it- "

_They know nothing of what we survived,_ The Soldier hissed out. _They are lacking. _

"Do not insult me," James intoned, making the effort to control The Soldier. "You know nothing; your imagination is lacking."

"Probably," Agent Triplett agreed graciously, and James and The Soldier were both slightly satisfied.

Agent Hunter crossed his arms across his chest, eyes darting to Agent Morse. "You don't have to hit us where it hurts. But we get your point, I guess."

Director Coulson exhaled slowly. "We do, Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of your situation."

"He's telling the truth," Wanda notified.

"How do you know that?" Agent May demanded, suspicious.

"A story for another time," Natalia cut in, speaking quickly. "We need to stay focused on Hydra."

James nodded. "Yes. S.H.I.E.L.D. failed me for seventy years. Your debt is due, and I am your creditor and collector."

"That's bloody _insanity!"_ Agent Simmons cried out, shocked.

_Take her life!_ The Soldier roared, enraged. _Show her insanity!_

"I'm entitled to it," James snapped, the undercurrent of his rage mixing with The Soldier's; it was getting really hard to control him. "We're going to help each other; there is no negotiation. You help me get my son, and I will leave a broken, dying Hydra in our wake."

Agent Triplett shrugged. "I think that's a more-than-generous deal, sir."

_Spare him,_ The Soldier ordered. _He is the only one who knows how to survive. He knows not to question his superior._

Director Coulson kept his eyes on James, and in those eyes, James saw lurking insanity and fear. A nervousness that was valiantly hidden behind a mask of indifference. "I don't trust your judgment, Agent Triplett, for you have been the most vocal about Ward's 'innocence.'"

"Ward is not innocent," Agent May hissed out, eyes flashing.

_Neither is she,_ The Soldier observed coldly. _I find her unworthy. Kill her._

"We already know what Grant did," Natalia pointed out. "He was Hydra. You imprisoned him, and on the transfer to his brother, he escaped. But there's more to it; there's personal hatred. He slighted you. What happened? Did he kill one of your Agents?"

"Ward killed the ones guarding him on the transfer, but that was it," Agent Triplett answered before Director Coulson or Agent May could. "He had plenty of chances to not only kill me, but all of us multiple times, yet he didn't."

Director Coulson's voice remained steady, but his eyes burned. James felt the urge to gouge them out. "Despite that, your son of a bitch son took one of my Agents - _Skye. _He's disappeared with her."

"That's it?" Pietro asked, incredulous, eyebrows furrowed. "I was expecting worse."

"Director Coulson, Agent Simmons, and Agent May are emotional," Wanda said, and James trusted her judgment. "Filled with anger and pettiness."

_They are incapable of reason,_ The Soldier concluded in disgust. _Pathetic. Weak._

Agent Simmons tensed, face red. "How dare you?"

"She has free leave," James cut in. "They both do. I'm not asking you to accept it. I'm telling you."

"You don't get to do that!"

James leaned forward, feeling the air ripple with the movement. "Is that a challenge?"

Agent Simmons let out a strangled gasp, looking away, but Agent May wasn't as wise. "She's right - you don't get to do that."

_Shall we show her what we can do?_ The Soldier purred out, delightful anticipation flaring in their shared psyche like pure napalm. _Rip her head from her shoulders. Unleash me!_

"I can do anything I want," James said instead, and he felt something inside him relax when Natalia's hand touched his leg; she was his anchor. "I'm entitled to it. Do _not _challenge me; it will end in your death."

Director Coulson stiffened. "You are overstepping- "

Steve interjected, hands hanging in the air. "Let's slow down. We're getting worked up."

Silence.

"We should probably focus on Hydra," Agent Triplett slowly pointed out.

"Grant is back in Hydra, which is where Agent Skye will be - if she's still alive," Natalia declared. "He's a Head."

"A _Head?"_ Director Coulson echoed. "Ward is one of the Hydra Heads?"

"Von Strucker confessed it to me before I killed him," James confirmed, dimly noting that Wanda and Pietro exchanged glances. "There are three living Heads: Malick, Whitehall, and Grant."

"Malick?" Agent Morse echoed, distressed.

Director Coulson's eyes closed. "Gideon Malick is one of the Hydra Heads?"

"The Security Council," Agent May whispered.

James understood and his rage was barely leashed. "Fools. You _are_ incompetent_._"

"This changes things," Director Coulson murmured, glancing at Agent May.

"It changes _nothing!"_ James snapped. "You're not listening. I'm getting my son, and I'll destroy Hydra with your help. Including Whitehall and Malick - _all_ of the Heads."

Agent Simmons paled. "Skye's in the company of not just _Ward_ but the other Hydra Heads?"

"If he didn't kill her," Agent May whispered darkly, posture tight.

"Skye's al- alive," Agent Fitz stated, and despite the sputter, his words brimmed with confidence. "Ward, he- he loves her."

James was unable to keep from glancing at Natalia, but he digested the news that Grant had found love with remarkable ease.

_He is not as worthy,_ The Soldier decreed. _He is weak. Just like his father._

"I need your help to get to Grant, and in return, I will make sure your Agent stays alive while Hydra is destroyed," he swore. "Both Grant and… Skye will be under my protection. Have we reached a deal?"

Director Coulson shook his head. "The moment Skye is clear from Ward, we're taking him, and we're putting him back in Vault D. If he resists, we will kill him. _That_ is the deal."

James was barely conscious of Natalia's grip on his leg, the concerned look she was giving him; all he could hear was The Soldier's bellows booming in their mind.

_Kill the unbelievers! Rain down our wrath; bathe in their warm blood - the blood of the enemy! Unleash me, James!_

"You idiots!" Wanda exclaimed, raw panic on her face. "You think you're in control, but you're not!"

Natalia's hand drifted from his leg to his flesh hand, and he had to consciously keep from obliterating it with his strength; instead, her fingers danced across his, distracting him from The Soldier.

It was enough to loosen his tongue.

"Do _not_ provoke me," James hissed out. "If you kill Grant, you all die. _That_ is the deal. A promise."

All of Director Coulson's team looked at each other, shifting in their seats, not at all subtle about rearranging their positions in the event of an attack.

"_Don't_ threaten us," Agent May warned, eyes furious.

Wilson finally spoke, "Look, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, and Black Widow have come to you to take down Hydra, but you're too busy bitching about semantics."

"Wilson's right," Natalia agreed. "We came out of faith that you would do what's right, that you could look past old grievances to look at the newer, _bigger_ picture. You're not thinking straight, Phil."

James noticed that Agent Morse and the silent Agent Mack exchanged weighted looks.

_They have noticed it, too,_ The Soldier whispered. _The Director is not fully there; his attention is given to something else - a voice in his head._

Director Coulson spaced his words, eyes blazing with commitment. "I don't like being threatened. You spoke of a debt earlier, Sergeant Barnes. Ward has one; he owes us. He must pay- "

"_No!"_ Wanda cried out, but it was too late.

Upon that instant, in the dark, thinly-veiled, and monstrous realm inside James' mind, The Soldier roared in enthusiastic hatred, seizing firm control, and James was ripped away, cast into torpor, toppled from dominance.

Breathing with fresh lungs, The Soldier jumped to his feet, and pointed his gun directly at Director Coulson's face; he wanted nothing more than to blow the face apart, but James' lingering presence demanded mercy.

Pandemonium erupted through the room, and The Soldier basked in it, drawing strength from the number of weapons pointed at him - it was futile to try to stop him.

"Don't shoot him!" Natalia cried out urgently.

"That's not how it works!" Agent Hunter yelled. "We gotta do what we gotta do!"

"An excellent philosophy," The Soldier murmured, eyes sweeping over his prey; they were weak. "Your deaths will be of the natural order; you challenged me, and for that challenge, you will die."

"Not before you," Agent May retorted, eyes flashing.

The Soldier drew himself up, senses stretching. "I can smell your fear. It is an aroma."

"You're mistaken."

"_Shut_ up, May!" Natalia snapped. "You damn fools! You're making it worse!"

The other Agents gripped their weapons tighter, sweat breaking out on their foreheads; they nervously glanced at each other.

Rogers was staring at him desperately. "Bucky, _stop!"_

"Bucky is dead," The Soldier intoned, watching as Rogers sprang back, wounded. "He was weak."

Natalia slowly stood in his eye-line. "Soldier, _stop._ We don't need you here."

The Soldier slowly turned his head to look at her - James' weakness. "Widow. I should have killed you. How did my bullets feel?"

_Don't touch her! _James roared, and The Soldier found his reign of dominance being threatened, slipping rapidly out of his grasp.

_Desist, James! _The Soldier snarled, fending off James' efforts. _I will do what you cannot._

Natalia's eyes sparked. "Would you like to find out?"

"Your threats are futile," he intoned. "You will not harm me, for you cannot tolerate wounding James. You are his weakness - and he is yours." The Soldier refocused on the anxious S.H.I.E.L.D. team, concentrating on Director Coulson. "I will kill Hydra, and I will convince Grant to help me. You are unnecessary."

Director Coulson's heart raced. "Sergeant Barnes- "

"I am not James!" The Soldier roared, his voice booming like thunder; he noted that Agent Simmons and Agent Fitz flinched, trying to escape from his line-of-sight. "I am superior. My glory and fury keep him alive. I feel no fear. No pain. _I_ will kill Hydra."

"You are vengeance incarnate," Natalia agreed gently, hands in the air; her eyes searched his face for any sign of James, but she would never find what she was looking for. The Soldier would ensure it. He would kill James if he had to. "Not even the chill of death could cool your wrath. But we don't need you now, Soldier. We're not in Hydra yet."

The Soldier fought off James' exertion to depose him. "S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same; we are in Hydra now. They will die."

Rogers whirled to look at Wanda, face frantic. "Can't you do something?"

The Soldier looked at Wanda, and she swallowed, nervously looking away. "I value my life. I won't stop him."

"Not that you could," The Soldier intoned. "Nothing will stop me."

_I will!_ James yelled, and The Soldier, recognizing what was happening, tried to fire his gun at Director Coulson's face, but his fingers betrayed him - they were now James' fingers, not his.

_Stop!_ The Soldier roared in outrage. _Leave me alone, James!_

_As you have me?_

James continued to force The Soldier away, and with a heave of effort, reseized full control, ignoring The Soldier's hysterical bellow of defiance. He inhaled deeply, noting that all eyes stared at him warily.

"I've saved all your lives - which makes them _mine,_" he murmured, seeing Natalia tenseness fade; she stared at him in relief. "Consider it mercy that you're not dead."

Agent Hunter chuckled forcefully; he looked nervous. "You have a hell of a way of showing mercy."

"Put down your weapons," James ordered, sitting back down. "They annoy more than scare."

The Agents slowly put away their weapons, retaking their seats.

Steve placed a tentative hand on his bionic arm. "Are you okay, Buck?"

James glanced at him. "Yes." He looked back at Director Coulson. "Your debt to me supersedes whatever Grant owes _you._" Natalia's hand rested on his own once more, and he drew strength from her, allowing her to anchor him, to keep The Soldier away. "You must pay your debt_._ I'm calling it in. Your grievance with my son is no match for my grievance with _you._ S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the _same;_ you failed and tortured me for seventy years. Like I said, consider it mercy that you're not dead."

"Don't do it," Natalia warned Coulson's Agents, many of whom were reaching for their weapons again. "We're faster. And I won't help you. I'll always pick James' side - the winning side."

"Stand down!" Director Coulson snapped to his team, who did so reluctantly, except Agent Triplett, who did so calmly. "We're going to come to terms."

James intentionally placed his clenched bionic fist on the table; his other hand remained in Natalia's. "Cross me, and you will know my wrath; you'll see what The Soldier is capable of."

_Unleash me!_

"I think we got a pretty good idea," Agent Hutler stated, chuckling nervously.

"I said not to threaten us," Agent May said through clenched teeth.

"Quiet," Pietro taunted, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "You shouldn't speak to your betters that way. He could kill all of you. You're lucky he didn't a minute ago."

Wilson groaned while Wanda smacked the back of her brother's head. "You're making it worse!"

"I'm telling them the truth," Pietro protested, ignoring the cold glare Agent May sent his way. "Barnes is, like, the Alpha here. They're challenging the predator; they're being stupid."

_I like him,_ The Soldier murmured. _Once his hatred for Stark ceases to cloud his judgment, he will be worthy. They both will be. They are valuable to our cause. _

"It was _stupid_ to bring children here," Agent May snapped. "You know nothing."

Wanda stiffened, ire at her brother forgotten; it turned to Agent May. "I know more than you do. I know that The Winter Soldier is the greatest weapon ever developed by Hydra. There's no one better, but you foolishly challenge him to try to save face. Just so you know, it's not working. You still seem weak."

"There is no arrogance that can compare to that of a _child's._"

"Very interesting." Wanda's head tilted, eyes beginning to take on a red mist. "The word 'child' is charged with dark and horrible memories that threaten to overwhelm you. What happened?"

James didn't care, but he was intrigued when Agent May's color vanished from her face, and even Director Coulson looked pale, hastily trying to cover it.

"_Who_ are you?" the Director demanded, hand inching towards his concealed weapon. "Are you Hydra?"

"Don't insult us," Wanda snapped, crossing her arms across her chest; the red mist was gone. "Pietro and I want Hydra gone as much as you do."

"Then _why_ would you- "

"Agent May provoked me. I'm not sorry."

_She is worthy now,_ The Soldier decreed. _Even with her hatred for Stark. She has the will to survive._

"There's been a lot of provoking," Agent Triplett observed dryly, but his concerned eyes rested on Agent May, who was unable to look Wanda in the eye. "How about we get back to what's important?"

Wilson nodded in agreement. "That'd be nice. I'm starting to miss drinking again."

James understood the reference, but he was surprised when Steve nodded in agreement next to him. "I'd join you if I could feel it. This has gotten out of hand."

"I'm sorry, Captain," Director Coulson immediately said. "This is all a shock. And none of us are exactly… yielding."

"Learn to," James ordered.

Natalia's hands squeezed his flesh one under the table; her eyes were apologetic. "Forgive James; he's angry."

"_No,_" Agent Mack finally said, shaking his head. "He's The Winter Soldier, accustomed to respect and orders being followed without question. He's not treating this as a negotiation. To him, it's already been decided. It's been fixed."

_This is a futile endeavor, James,_ The Soldier whispered. _We can destroy Hydra and retrieve Grant on our own. They are unnecessary. Kill them. They are no better than Hydra; they are the same. There are no sides!_

"What is there to negotiate?" Pietro demanded, anger flashing across his young face. "We're offering help to destroy Hydra. You should be eager to take us up on it!"

"Not when _children_ are the available help," Agent May snapped, fire igniting in her eyes.

Wanda's lips thinned. "_Don't_ go there. Because you'll lose. I know what you did."

Agent May's composure cracked, and James saw the raw pain but also the fury. It intrigued him. "Then know that I'm capable of doing it again. If you and your brother are Hydra spies, my bullets won't miss."

_She killed a child,_ The Soldier observed, and James understood how that conclusion was arrived at; he agreed with it. _Use that against her. Break her! Kill her!_

Pietro grinned. "Believe me, your bullets will miss. They wouldn't touch us."

"I see what you mean about wanting that drink now," Agent Hunter drawled, looking directly at Wilson. "I'm starting to feel pretty thirsty myself."

Agent Morse nodded in agreement. "I could use one, too."

"Exactly. This is a bullshit conversation. We're getting nowhere."

"And whose fault is that?" Wanda asked, tilting her chin in the air. "Barnes has simple requests- "

"Letting a monster reunite with his even deadlier father is _not_ simple," Agent Simmons corrected haughtily, mouth set in a hard line. "Ward is a murderer who deserves no redemption. He deserves death. If I see him again, I'll kill him."

James frowned. "Then you die. That is the deal. Accept it."

"_No._ Ward's a murderer!"

"And what is a murderer, Agent Simmons?" Natalia asked slowly, dangerously; her hand gripped his tighter. "Who decides if someone's worthy of redemption? Explain it. _Enlighten_ us."

Agent Simmons faltered. "I meant no disrespect- "

"You _failed,_" James snapped, words cutting through the room; his bionic arm _whirred_. "You are children_._ You know nothing."

Agent Morse tensed in her seat. "We sympathize with what you went through, but that doesn't give you the right to- "

James cut her off, voice ominous; he was debating whether to follow The Soldier's order. "I judge you as you have judged me. I find you _lacking._ It's no wonder S.H.I.E.L.D. was blind to Hydra; you're the _same._"

"I think that's enough, Sergeant Barnes," Director Coulson said quietly. "Mistakes were made- "

"Mistakes are still being made."

"As determined by _you?"_ Agent May asked, face twisting. "You're blinded by your hatred towards Hydra- "

"Just like you're blinded by your hatred towards Grant," Wanda pointed out lazily, waving her fingers in the air mockingly. "It's interesting that you're quick to point out someone's dark emotions, but you don't look at your own. How hypocritical."

Director Coulson's eyes narrowed. "You don't know the story. We don't know who you are, or how you know all this information. You're inserting yourself in something you have no business being a part of."

"She has business," James decreed. "She has more business than you, for she takes my offer seriously. She _knows._ But you are blind."

"I am not blind enough to let Ward flee in the action of everything happening when we get to him. He'd never come quietly. He would try to kill my team and maybe kill Skye if necessary. He must be put in Vault D."

Silence.

_Fools,_ The Soldier derided. _Almost all of them. Your son's worth is declining. He should have never shown them mercy. Something he inherited from you, James. Father and son are weak._

Natalia stood to her feet. "I had faith you would be reasonable, Phil. I see I was mistaken."

Steve stood to his feet, as well. "I'm disappointed, Coulson. You're not the man I thought you were."

Director Coulson's eyes bulged from their sockets, and James had seen the same expression when he had punched his bionic fist through a man's chest, ripping out the beating heart therein - an unforgettable message from the Hydra Heads to the witness permitted to live.

Natalia nodded. "Steve's right. You can't even control- "

"I'm _sorry,_ Captain," Director Coulson interrupted. "Sit down, Agen- Natasha and Captain Rogers. _Please._ I'm sorry. We want the same thing as you do - Hydra's destruction."

"What we also want is my _son,_" James added in a low whisper. "The one request you and your team won't- "

"Because it's _insane!"_ Agent Simmons cried out, hands slapping the table with raw intensity. "Ward's a monster who's killed countless people and kidnapped Skye!"

James' gaze fell on Agent Simmons; he ignored The Soldier. "You are very vocal about your hatred towards Grant. I don't know why, but he must have had a reason for not killing you."

Agent Simmons' face went red, eyes flashing with memories and grief. "Not for a lack of trying! Ward tried to kill me and Fitz! We nearly drowned to death! But you don't care that _your son_ turned out just like you!"

Steve sharply inhaled, indignation on his flushed face. "Agent Simmons, I'm sorry Grant tried to kill you- "

"Ward sa- saved us," Agent Fitz corrected in his stutter, and James saw Agent Simmons look devastated by such words.

"You don't like me," James observed. "Nor do you trust me."

Agent Simmons' chin tilted up. "No, I do not. None of us do. You are The Winter Soldier. We know what you did. You are Ward's _father._"

While Steve looked too angry to speak, James' bionic fist clenched, the _whirring_ sound causing many of the Agents' hearts to beat faster - including Agent Simmons'. "My hands are stained with the blood of thousands. Maybe millions. Yes, that is my legacy. I know."

Natalia looked at him in concern, but she didn't say anything; she squeezed his hand.

"It's one that passed to your son." Agent Simmons' lips twisted in disgust. "He _drips_ with it."

_She has never seen a dripping corpse,_ The Soldier snarled, the inferno inside growing hotter and brighter; it was melting the chains of restraint he had fastened around The Soldier. _She is weak. Enlighten her! Use Agent May!_

"Your thinking is limited."

Agent Simmons stiffened. "I am a Doctor- "

"I've killed thousands of Doctors," James interrupted, leaning forward. Natalia looked at him, worried, but he ignored her. "You are close to becoming like the Hydra scientists; they thought they knew everything."

"_You_ do not know everything, Sergeant Barnes," Agent May snapped, coming to her fellow Agent's defense.

"No," James agreed. "But I know more than all of you."

Natalia smiled thinly. "This is ridiculous. Take it from someone who was there. James isn't lying."

"You would say that, wouldn't you?" Agent Simmons challenged, crossing her arms across her chest. "We see how you look at him."

"Then you know the side I'd pick in battle," Natalia replied, nonplussed. "The sides are clear. If you want a fight- "

"_We_ don't," Steve added, clarifying.

"- you will lose. Instead, we want your help. That is all we ask. James has been merciful enough. His patience - and mine, for that matter - are not endless."

Agent Simmons's lips parted. "You're an _Avenger._ You don't care that- "

"What _I_ care about is Grant and killing Hydra," James hissed out. "I don't know Grant's reasoning for not killing you, but it would be easy. The only reason you're alive is that Grant did not want you dead at any point you knew him." The Soldier's goading encouraged him, and he didn't shy away from it. "I can't see why. Know that I don't have the same restraint as my son. I've killed over a thousand scientists; you make it very hard not to add you to the list."

Steve flinched beside him, following Agent Simmons' example, but Agent May pounded a small, tight fist on the table. "_Don't _threaten her!"

"You mean, like you threatened me and Pietro?" Wanda asked sardonically, anger on her face. "Like I said earlier, how hypocritical."

"I believe Agent May is correct, Sergeant Barnes," Director Coulson said, face pinched. "You're making it hard to trust you."

"That goes both ways, Phil," Natalia pointed out. "You haven't been a willing partner."

"I'm disappointed, Coulson," Steve said, disheartened. "I had faith. I thought that you'd want to help us, help me and Bucky. I thought you'd see the truth."

Director Coulson deflated, but his resolve remained. "The truth is that we have no faith to believe Sergeant Barnes about Ward and Hydra. He has threatened all of our lives. If it were anyone else, they'd be locked up, but I know that such an action would be pointless."

"Then trust in the fact that you all still breathe," James declared, staring hard at Director Coulson. "I can take out your entire base with all of your Agents. It's within my capability. If I wanted you dead, you would die."

"That's nice," Agent Hunter quipped, subtle flashes of anxiety in his eyes.

"It is," Agent Triplett agreed, rubbing a hand over his face.

Director Coulson frowned; trenches were carved into his face. "Now you're provoking me."

"Better you than me." Natalia's hand reminded him of reality; it staved off the rage. "If you and your Agents continue provoking me, you will all be corpses in seconds. My restraint is not endless; my wrath is."

"He's not lying, Phil," Natalia said, sounding bored. "I've seen it."

"That's even nicer," Agent Hunter said slowly. "But I think his teenage proxies already made that clear."

"Enough," Steve cut in, voice desperate. "I can't take this anymore. What we need to do is figure out where Grant will be, which means Agent Skye will be there, too. If Grant's like… his father, he wouldn't let the woman he loves be put in danger by being away from him."

_A weakness,_ The Soldier derided in disgust. _She is your weakness, James. She is why they recaptured us during your escape. She imprisoned us!_

Natalia seemed to know what The Soldier was saying to him, for her hand squeezed his own, and their eyes connected for a brief moment - green versus dark.

"Th- that sounds li- like Ward," Agent Fitz said, nodding his head, clearly oblivious to Agent Simmons' discomfort. "He loves Skye."

"He's _obsessed_ with Skye," Agent May corrected stubbornly, and based on the expression on Agent Triplett's face, it was a fact that had already been heavily disputed in the past.

Wanda smiled, but it wasn't friendly; James was proud. "We'll make our own judgments. Yours are clouded with hatred towards Grant."

"A child's judgment is- "

"_Woah!"_ Agent Mack looked up from the tablet in his hands, startled. "I don't believe in fate, but this is uncanny."

Director Coulson's gaze swiveled to face his Agent. "What is it?"

"Hydra is mobilizing; tons of activity are now being broadcasted through those back channels Ward told us about." Agent Mack turned around the tablet and pointed at the flashes across various points on a map. "They're lighting up like a Christmas Tree. This must be it. They're making their move. We knew they were going to do something; it's happening now."

_Our vengeance is here,_ The Soldier whispered, enticed; gleeful anticipation surged through their psyche._ We will kill them all._

"Grant will be there," James declared.

"Perfect timing," Natalia pointed out. "They don't know we know they're onto them. We'll surprise them."

Steve looked towards Director Coulson. "Do we have a deal? In return for our help, you'll let Grant go?"

James' bionic arm _whirred_. "I am now one step closer to getting my son and destroying Hydra because you will help me, and I mean really help me. If you refuse- "

"Threats are no longer necessary, Sergeant Barnes," Director Coulson interrupted, holding up a hand. "I know what you can do. I know the stories. I had believed them fiction, for only fiction lies in such an honest manner. But seeing you now, I believe them all to be true."

"They are."

"A brief alliance will be beneficial to both of us. If you lead us into Hydra, deliver them on a silver platter, then Ward… will be pardoned. We'll let him go into your custody. But only on the condition that Skye is returned to us unharmed."

"Deal."

XxXxXxXxXxX

**Well, that's all for this one, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.**

****Grant and Skye are stuck in a cell together while Whitehall tortures Skye's father, and they talk because it's all they can do. The reason they can't escape has to do with what Grant knows about Whitehall; the man's over a century old, so he wouldn't be an idiot regarding Grant. Plus, with Grant getting the Super-Soldier repressor shot every day, he wouldn't be able to fight his way through an army or anything. Also, the fact that Skye's there plays a huge role. She is anchoring him to the cell. If Skye weren't there, he'd already have tried to escape because he'd have nothing to lose, but since Skye's there, he has **_**a lot**_** to lose.**

****Steve and Sam make an appearance, and Natasha shows up to talk about James! I hope that I really, **_**really**_** delved into what it would take to be The Soldier, or how Bucky/James would deal with everything that happened to him in a realistic manner because, honestly, I always found it really lacking - things taken at face-value when they shouldn't have been. I also wasn't the biggest fan of the brainwashing thing and how that turned James into The Soldier, same with the Red Book shown in **_**Civil War**_**. So, I changed it up, giving The Soldier his own personality, that was created through the combined efforts of Hydra's brainwashing attempts and James' own instincts to survive. **

**So, when James reappears to Steve after Natasha explains everything as best as she can, Steve will be able to understand much more clearly what happened and who his best friend/brother has become. Introductions are made from the twins and they decide to go to Coulson for help because, despite The Soldier's insistence, not even he could fight through thousands of skilled Hydra Agents. **

****Raina is captured by Hydra for they realize she knows the secrets that Skye's father knows, and that leads to Whitehall's appearance in Skye and Grant's cell. Whitehall preys on Raina's affection for Skye's father, and that is how he learns everything that she knows.**

**Project Centipede had to start somewhere, somehow. They had to have something off of which to base their formula, so I made it that Garrett took some of Grant's mutated blood before ordering him to take the Super-Soldier depressor shots (which Grant thought were steroids or something) and gave it to the scientists. **_**That**_** is how Project Centipede started in this.**

****Whitehall talks to Malick, and upon realizing that immortality is only **_**one**_** of the gifts that can be granted in the Temple by the Obelisk, demands reinforcements - almost all of Hydra - to go to the Temple with him.**

****James and company meet with S.H.I.E.L.D. and it gets as tumultuous as possible without a bloodbath. S.H.I.E.L.D. was always blind regarding Ward, so when they learn that Ward is James' son, they'll automatically supplant their hatred and distrust from Ward onto James. It also doesn't help that Coulson's going insane, and May is more suspicious than ever after Hydra's Uprising, you know? But eventually, they come to terms. They're going to storm Hydra and retrieve Grant and Skye while destroying Hydra. **

**I think that's everything. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!**

_**Stay Safe  
**_**ButtonPusher**


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